


Better the Devil

by Hanna



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Explicit Rape, F/M, M/M, Poor Thor, Porn With Plot, Prison AU, Steve stop doing the right thing, Stockholm Syndrome, Thor is utterly stockholmed, and so is the author and enabler, explicit consensual sex, fucking Thrym, lots and lots of plot, rape/noncon, shameless enabler, she blames Book_Wyrm, she isn’t as upset at her enabler as she really ought to be, stop looking so smug wifey, the author has no idea how her ‘prison smut before bed’ story became a plotty monster, the author is a sick little puppy, the author should stop cluttering tags with nonsense, this wasn’t supposed to have plot, why are you a gentleman, why does this have plot, you are a bitch and I hate you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 11:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanna/pseuds/Hanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor is sent to jail for manslaughter and armed robbery when he takes the eye of a gang boss. He isn't interested, but Thrym is persistent. Very persistent. And Thor is no match for him. Things only get more complicated when Steve Rogers, framed cop, arrives, and throws the already tentative balance of prison life into chaos.</p><p>A prison AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stand and Surrender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Book_Wyrm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_Wyrm/gifts).



> This is a prison AU, and comes with all the warnings that implies. Stockholm syndrome, non-con, non-con turned consensual (eventually), the author and her beta cursed Steve for doing the right thing, twisted morality.
> 
> Also, I would like to blame Book_Wyrm for this in its entirety. I had a spot of porn before bed written, it started to develop plot, I whined to her about it and she encouraged me to go with the plot.
> 
> She’s wishing she hadn’t done that now, but its too late. I’m wishing I never listened to her but its too late for that too.
> 
> Damn.

**Part One: Stand and Surrender**

Loki had told him, when he’d arrived, that he had to choose- to choose to be a bitch or take one. He’d been horrified, thought of Jane and shook his head instantly.

“I- I have a girlfriend!” he’d said.

“There are only two ways to survive here,” Loki had said. “You have to fuck or be fucked. Your girlfriend- she comes second to survival.” He’d felt fury rushing through him and turned away sharply, felt Loki’s green eyes on his back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, softening the blow, and Thor had refused to look at him- couldn’t look at him.

“Which do you do?” he asked later and Loki snorted softly.

“Do you think I could fuck anyone?” he asked, and Thor sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Loki did not reply.

He’d been pursued by Thrym ever since his arrival here and had told him no, time and again. He’d had lucky breaks. Whenever Thrym cornered him he was able to escape by either a meal or guards coming, but he knew his luck couldn’t last forever.

He remembered when he’d arrived, unable to forget the face of the man he had brained with a baseball bat when he’d interrupted his and Baldur’s robbery of the convenience store, who had never woken up, unable to forget his mother’s and Jane’s disappointed faces, he remembered seeing Thrym amongst the gathered inmates to see the new meat.

“Blondie!” he’d called and automatically Thor had turned to look, cursing himself the instant he did so, to see a tall, tattooed man who was bigger than him eyeing him off in a way that made him shudder, fear pushing its way into his stomach and resting heavy there.

He’d heard the stories.

He prayed they weren’t true.

“I’ll find you,” he said, and Thor felt himself shrink back.

He arrived in time for dinner and then to set his meagre possessions up in his cell before meeting his cellmate at lockup. He introduced himself as Loki, looked him up and down.

“They are going to eat you up,” he breathed. “You look strong, but your hair- it won’t help you any. I bet you don’t fight dirty.” He opened his mouth to protest and Loki waved him off. “Anyway, lights out is soon. Best get in bed. You’re on the bottom bunk.” And with that Loki hadn’t said another word and Thor had lain in bed and worried, worried all night long, hardly able to breathe.

The next morning he woke with stones heavy in the pit of his stomach and it was at breakfast that Thrym first spoke to him.

“Thor, is it?” he’d asked and he’d nodded cautiously, holding his ground despite the fear that filled him.

“You should eat with us.” Trapped, helpless, he stared between him and Loki, and Loki took pity on him, moved close, put a hand on his arm. He jumped.

“It’s his first day, Thrym,” he said quietly. “Give him a chance to settle in.” Thrym gave him a piercing look.

“Very well,” he said, and walked away. Thor breathed again and Loki tugged him towards the table.

“That’s Thrym,” he said, grimly. “If he has his eye on you…” he shook his head. “Eat.”

He’d barely tasted what little he’d eaten, nerves thrumming under his skin.

It was that night Loki had told him to choose. He’d ignored him at the time, and now he was paying the price.

They came for him in the shower, grabbed his arms, pinned them behind his back and he flailed, fought and struggled, but he wasn’t a fighter and his struggles only served to tighten their hold as they shoved him to the floor, water still gushing onto him.

He felt panic and fear fill him, smother him, strangle him and he choked out a breath.

“Let me go,” he demanded but it came out more like a plea, his voice thin and reedy, and they laughed above him. He pressed into the floor at the sound, shuddering, and fingers danced down his spine, encouraging the shudder lower. He wished that he wasn’t so obvious but it was far too late to hide it from them. He heard Thrym above him, voice low and menacing, and froze.

“Afraid, princess?” he mocked him as his legs were wrenched open despite his best efforts to hold them closed and he bucked in panic to throw them off futilely. A wet finger quested between his cheeks and he felt them spread. He buried his face in the tiles below, trembling uncontrollably.

“You’ve hidden from me,” Thrym said. “Run. You’ve fought me. And now you’re going to pay for that. This won’t be good for you. I could have made it good, but you leave me no choice.” The finger entered him roughly and he tensed as it scraped painfully at him.

“This is going to be _very_ bad for you,” Thrym promised in his ear and he heard himself whimper slightly as if from far away. Then the finger was out and he heard the sound of sloshing above the shower before something thick was between his cheeks and then inside him, shoved roughly in one movement.

The pain was unbelievable, radiating out into every corner of his body, and he screamed. The sound echoed across the walls and into corners but no one was there to hear it, no one except Thrym and his gang and they just laughed as they pinned him tighter, twisted his arms and made him sob from pain as Thrym set a punishing pace. Each time he moved he felt rawer and the pain built and built until he couldn’t help but scream again at a particularly sharp thrust.

“Aww, he’s adorable,” one gang member said, wrenching his tear-stained face up by his hair and he sobbed helplessly at the sight of a cock right in his face, which was shoved in his mouth.

“Don’t you bite me now,” he said, and thrust right into the back of his throat. He gagged desperately and tried to close his mouth. A yell of pain above him had him paling as the hand in his hair pulled painfully and he moaned. Thrym’s powerful thrusts rocked his body helplessly and the equally powerful thrusts into his mouth had him jostled like so much meat as he just tried to keep his teeth out of the way and breathe.

Finally Thrym was spilling in him, the warm liquid shooting at his raw insides and making him jerk beneath him, and he was out and he only had to focus on the cock in his mouth and the pain in his lower body, spidering out to his extremities. He scrabbled at the wet tiles uselessly.

Then someone else was shoving into him and his raw skin could not handle it. He screamed again and gagged when the cock was shoved right down his throat. Then he spilled into his mouth and he coughed and spluttered but was forced to swallow it all.

He gasped at air while he could, desperately, and then was gagged again and sobbed pitifully.

Time was lost to him in a haze of pain, blind terror and come, but finally his head was allowed to drop and they stepped back as he lay limp on the floor, unable to muster the energy to even shut his legs. He had never felt such pain in all his life. He didn’t even want to think about moving and his mouth hung open, red and bloody, as he panted weakly.

A hand touched his shoulder and he tried to jerk back. The motion sent a spasm of pain through him. He saw Thrym’s face in his vision and closed his eyes as his breath shot up and he tried to form words, pleas.

“You come willingly to me,” he said. “Or we do this again and again and again until you do.” He shook his head frantically, the motion igniting a headache beyond any he’d ever felt before, and he whimpered at the thought.

“Please,” he whispered, hoarse and raw, “Please, no.”

“You won’t run away again,” Thrym said and he shook his head, more slowly. Anything but this. Anything.

“No,” he choked out. “I. I won’t.”

“You’ll come when I call,” he said and he nodded helplessly, shook on the shower floor. Thrym’s finger ran down his spine and rested at his hole and he buried his face in the tiles as pleas fled his mouth. He slipped his finger inside and he couldn’t help his sharp cry of agony.

“You’ll remember this next time I ask for you,” he said and it pulled out. He heard footsteps leaving the bathroom. “You’ll come to me and you’ll do anything I ask of you,” Thrym said. He nodded, chest heaving.

“No more,” he choked out. “I’ll do anything.” Thrym’s smile was terrifying.

“I know,” he said, and patted his hip. He flinched. Then Thrym left and he was alone. He lay still for a long time, unable to muster any energy, but finally dragged himself up, crying out at every little twinge of movement. He was upright finally but his shower had stopped, his water allotment run out. He sobbed dryly and tried as best he could to wash and spit the taste of come out but couldn’t and was forced to dress still covered in it and drag himself through the corridors.

People stared and he tried to ignore them. Loki hopped down from his bunk and touched his back. He flinched.

“Get these off,” he said, softly, and he was too tired, too scared to resist. He did, gasping at every movement, and felt a cloth running down his back, wiping the rest of the come off.

“I warned you,” Loki said softly, and he just lay silent and miserable as he worked.

XX

He ached whenever he moved, sharply and then more dully as it faded, twinging all the time to remind him of his promise, and his constant terror that he would be called upon choked him- _unable to breathe around a cock stuffed down his throat, with a cock in his ass, thick and rigid with blood, and he was screaming_ \- but it wasn’t until a week later, when the worst of the aches and pains had faded, that Thrym beckoned to him at dinner, indicating an empty spot beside him.

He forgot how to breathe for a moment, terror filling him, terrible fury filling him- Thrym thought he owned the place, thought he could control everyone, control him, and he thought of the shower and shuddered and knew he could-, and did not even think to disobey him. He gathered his tray and shot Loki a helpless look before going and sitting beside Thrym, putting his tray down. He could not stop shaking, especially when Thrym put a possessive, threatening hand on his lower back.

He choked out a small, terrified sound.

“I won’t hurt you,” Thrym told him, “As long as you behave.”

His eyes fell to the table and the food he wasn’t able to even think about eating with his stomach twisting in knots and he slumped in defeat.

XX

He was utterly terrified.

He lay tense beneath him and his breath hitched whenever Thrym came close to him or shifted above him. Thrym spoke to him, words that rolled over him and dug into him like barbs.

“You’re not very good but you’ll get better,” Thrym told him. “We have lots of time to practise your technique, after all.” He shuddered, the motion passing through his whole body, and Thrym laughed. “You should be grateful,” he said, and the very notion of gratitude seemed so far from his situation he might have laughed. “After all, everyone else wanted you too. But they’re all scared of me. As they should be.” Thor knew the truth of that fear- knew how utterly merciless Thrym was- and he buried his face in the mattress with a dry sob.

“If not for me that scene in the shower? Could have happened a hundred times.” His eyes widened and he felt himself stiffening all over. Thrym chuckled. “You’re lucky I kept them off your back,” and then he thrust particularly hard and Thor bucked beneath him, panic dictating his actions, but the movement only served to draw him deeper. Thrym’s laugh was something he did not forget for a very long time.

XX

He saw the way the others looked at him. He saw their appraising eyes. He knew that he was no fighter, that these men were fighters. He was in for manslaughter – completely accidental manslaughter – and armed robbery. He would have stood no chance against them.

He and Baldur had always run together, only ever getting on when they were breaking the law, and Baldur had always accused him of being soft. He had always shied from violence, from hurting people in the course of their crimes. Baldur usually planned everything, took what fallout there was, usually from Mother, who just gave Thor a long, disappointed look that made him want to shrivel up.

But Baldur always pushed him to do more, and he was prideful. Baldur knew just how to taunt him into just one more robbery. Just one more.

He’d never meant to hurt anyone and the way blood rushed from his face when he found out he’d killed someone had made Baldur sneer at him in court.

“Soft,” he scoffed, and he knew he was.

Baldur had gone to another prison and Thor could not have been more grateful that his brother didn’t see him as a- a bitch. As Thrym’s bitch. Baldur would have taken a bitch, he knew, before he ever entertained the notion of lying beneath another.

And Thor let his fear control him, Thor spread himself for Thrym, Thor let Thrym protect him where Baldur would never have needed the protection of another.

He hated himself for the rush of gratitude that seared through him, the gratitude to Thrym, felt every inch of it tying him further to the man he hated most.

XX

Thrym did not call upon him every night, but most nights he did.

He hated Thrym. Hated him with a passion that almost equalled his terror of him, and that gave him the strength some days to refuse him, though all day he waited and waited and waited for Thrym to take him by force. Thrym withdrew his protection those days and he had to fight off inmates, ignore their appraising, eager eyes, the way they would reach out to touch as he passed. He slapped them away and wished for Thrym’s protection.

He hated himself for that.

He thought of Jane and held his head as high as he could. He would not cheat on her. Their relationship was already on the rocks as it was and it was far too important to him to lose over some loss of his dignity.

Then after a long day of catcalls and dread and fear Thrym called him and he meekly went to him, he spread himself beneath him and hated himself all the more.

“You need to stop fighting,” Loki urged him. “I know why you do it,” his eyes fell on his picture of Jane and he turned sharply to glare at him, “But you can’t keep fighting him. His patience won’t last forever.” He shuddered a little and Thor wanted to comfort him, but knew he wouldn’t accept it, that he was in no position to offer comfort.

“I will not cheat on her,” he snapped, and the memories of each and every time he had assailed him. He felt his shoulders shaking and Loki came close, put a hand on his wrist.

“Thor, it’s a hard world in here. Thrym has chosen you- he’ll keep the others off you. It could be much worse.” His eyes were warning, knowing, and Thor felt tears spring into his, felt his shoulders shake.

“How can I do that to her?” he whispered, despairing.

“Think of yourself,” Loki said and went to bed.

“Is that what you do?” Thor asked and Loki was silent for so long he thought he wouldn’t answer.

“Yes,” he finally said.

When Thrym called him he thought of Jane. He thought of Jane and his love for her and then he thought of the eyes of everyone, wondered how long Thrym’s favour and protection would last, what would happen to him if he withdrew it, and he went to him.

He hated Thrym with a burning passion, loathed him and feared him, and he was pathetically grateful to him with a force that startled him.

At least it was just Thrym when he submitted, and Thrym was gentle when he could have been rough, when he knew what rough was. It could have been much, much worse.

XX

Thrym sometimes wanted to fuck his mouth.

The first time he bit him, hard, and relished his shout of pain, the way he yanked him off and threw him so hard to the ground stars flashed before his eyes, the way he kicked him, knocked the wind from him.

Then came the fucking. It was rough and hard and punishing, and he was screaming before long, writhing and bucking to throw him off and pleading at the same time, inanely, unable to think, to breathe past the pain.

When Thrym finally pulled out he just lay there, limp and helpless, and knew he was beaten.

The next time he tried to keep his teeth out of the way. Thrym pulled punishingly on his hair when they scraped over him but it was always an accident. He learned to curl his lips over his teeth so they were out of the way to avoid the punishment that always followed.

He learned alright, and when he opened his mouth for him, when he curled his tongue over the slit to keep Thrym happy, when he felt the burning desire to keep Thrym happy deep in his bones, he thought of Jane and had to try hard not to cry.

XX

It slowly happened that he stopped fighting him, that his fights were less, more easily defeated, and he stopped even entertaining the notion that he was strong against Thrym, that he allowed defeat to overtake him and Thrym to do anything to him.

He still thought of Jane, with great guilt, but knew the punishment for not doing as Thrym said and it was then he remembered Loki’s words: your girlfriend is secondary to survival. He knew the truth of them now, deep in his bones, and hated himself for it.

He stopped thinking of Jane, eventually – thought only of Thrym, of pleasing Thrym, of how to avoid punishment. Those thoughts weren’t just thoughts, but an ache deep inside him that was soothed when he made Thrym happy, and he feared that he was truly becoming his bitch but could do nothing to stop it.

Thrym left him alone longer the more he learned to please him, and learn he did. He learned that he liked it when he met his thrusts, when he clenched around him, and when Thrym made a rough, strangled noise atop him, when his thrusts became erratic and he spilled, he no longer hated and dreaded it. He sought it out and felt the spill of come in him ease something else deep inside of him.

He wanted to mean something to Thrym, and so he tried harder to please him. He wanted to be more than an easy fuck, he wanted to be a good fuck, to keep Thrym’s protection, to keep him happy, and so he tried harder, and the more Thrym responded to his efforts the better he felt. He felt his rhythm changing, felt himself anxiously watching Thrym at other times, when not called upon, to gauge his mood, found himself wanting to lift it when he was angry or unhappy.

Loki watched him with an odd set to his lips, but Thor didn’t know what else he was supposed to do.

Thrym once put him on top and he lie frozen, unsure what to do. Thrym told him to ride him, to fuck himself on him, and he lowered himself onto him slowly, lifted off, trying to make the man below him respond. Thrym grabbed his hips and thrust him up and down until he had an idea of the speed he wanted and matched it, slowly began to ride him properly until he knew exactly what he wanted when he put him on top. He took pride in making Thrym hold him and thrust into him like a beast, making him spill in him.

“You slut,” Thrym said after, and it sounded and felt like a term of endearment.

He learned to please him with his mouth, to curl his tongue around the head, to run it along the vein, to tease at the crown, to hum around him. He taught him how not to gag, taught him to deepthroat. He learned to please him with his fingers, to play at the skin, to cup his balls, to rub his finger through the slit, to rub the underside, the vein, with just the very tip of his nail, and he did it eagerly, craving the times that he could make Thrym spill with his mouth and hands alone.

He learned Thrym’s signals, how to tell what he wanted from him, if he wanted his mouth, his hands, if he wanted him to do the work or if he just wanted to rut into him. He learned that if he was in a bad mood he was just to lie still and take whatever Thrym did. He learned to cope with pain and not flinch at it, even to take pleasure at it when it was what Thrym wanted. He learned that he was to do the work when Thrym was in a good mood, to draw it out, to watch him while he did it, to make a show of it. He learned that Thrym liked watching him open himself up sometimes, liked watching him fuck himself on his own fingers.

Some days Thrym was mockingly gentle and took his time, treating him as a lover, and his heart ached- he wanted to be that lover, to truly mean what his slow, deep thrusts implied. Some days he reached down, stroked Thor to hardness and made him spill. It had always been a long time for him and he always spilled quickly, revelling in the attention. He found a spot in Thor that made him buck back and cry out in pleasure, and if he were particularly cruel he stimulated him without giving him relief, made him wait until he was in his own cell to fuck into his own fist and finish himself.

It was when he was allowed release he thought that maybe he meant something to Thrym, something more than an easy fuck, but most of him knew his worth was merely that he was easy. That he had put so much effort into training him had to mean something, part of him argued, and the rest supplied that he just wanted his easy fuck to be a good one.

He thought of Jane the days he wrestled with these thoughts, of his guilt, of her next visit, and he vowed to tell her this time.

Then he knew he could not bear to see her, already so disappointed in him for ending up in prison, for committing a crime after promising no more, more disappointed. Could not bear to see her go and never come back.

His heart ached at the very thought and his head drooped.

Loki never asked him what was wrong, knowing the answer, just tried to distract him, and he pushed the thoughts aside until next he had a quiet day to ponder them, when he would push them away again.

Worst of all was when Thrym did things while others were present. Sometimes he rutted into his tense body and pulled sharply on his hair until he responded properly and he reddened at their jeers, couldn’t meet anyone else’s eyes for days, and even Thrym’s satisfaction did nothing for him. Once he ordered him to please him with his mouth in front of his gang and Thor wanted to please Thrym, he truly did, but he couldn’t do that.

He refused.

Thrym let him go and he felt confused relief and dread pass through him. Fear at what would happen to him and the sharp twinge knowing that he’d disappointed Thrym, that Thrym was unhappy with him, kept him on edge.

In the shower that night two other inmates shoved him against the wall and took turns at him and all he could think about was that Thrym would be furious with him for allowing another to spill inside him. The next day Thrym met his eyes in a way that told him that this was punishment for his defiance. He could not drop his eyes and Thrym didn't turn away until he was shrinking back and shaking hard.

As soon as he did his head dropped and he slumped, knowing he was defeated.

He went back and it was worse: Thrym forced him to ride him with the others present and pulled him back so the angle stimulated him and made him go redfaced with pleasure, forced gasps and moans from him with company. He found himself rocking back urgently, wanting more, knowing he was a slut- Thrym’s slut, Thrym’s bitch- and he could not help the thrill of pleasure that went down his spine at the thought.

Thrym tightly wrapped his hand around the base of Thor’s cock to stop him from coming when he did, and Thor knew he would have, would have been set off by Thrym’s pleasure.

“He’s such a slut,” he told the gang, affectionately, as he clenched around him when he pulled out, mewled. “He’s my slut.”

He could not help his deprived whine when he wasn’t allowed his own climax, was forbidden it, and the laughs of the others made him go red in shame but his arousal did not wilt. He stared desperately at Thrym.

“Beg me,” Thrym said, and he was out of his mind with need. He did. He crawled forward and pleaded.

“Thrym, please,” he said, scrabbling at the floor. “Please, I need- I need to come, please let me.” He didn’t even care about their audience. Thrym looked down at him and finally nodded.

“You may,” he said, and in front of the gang he fucked desperately into his own fist until he spilled with a long cry.

He could not meet their eyes for a long time and they did not stop jeering and mocking him for just as long.

It was at that point he stopped fighting altogether, stopped wanting to fight, wanted nothing more than just to please Thrym.

It was at that point he was transferred to Thrym’s cell.

XX

He stood at the door nervously, clutching what little he had in his arms, breath too fast. He startled at small noises and passing inmates and wished with everything he had he was back with Loki.

“Go,” Loki had urged him. “Don’t keep him waiting.” He’d paused a long time at the door, afraid. It had been a long time since he’d been terrified of Thrym. He knew what to expect now, what to do. He wanted more than anything else to please him. He never stopped being afraid of him, though.

Now, he did not know what Thrym expected of him.

“Well, come on in,” Thrym said and his eyes fell automatically to the ground as he swallowed, obeying. “Put your stuff on the bottom bunk, you can sort it out later. You’ll sleep there.” He did so and waited in the middle of the room, heart beating fast, eyes squeezed shut, shaking. Thrym put a hand on his arm.

“I won’t hurt you, Thor,” he said, and Thor felt a shudder pass down his spine. Thrym’s fingers followed it and rested at his hip comfortably. He still did not know what was expected of him, and that scared him. “Unless you want me to, that is.” Thor shook his head quickly. He had learned to deal with pain, to take pleasure in Thrym’s pleasure. That didn’t mean _he_ liked it. Thrym laughed.

“I didn’t think so,” he said. “And I’ve always been a good judge of character. Sit.” His hand removed from his hip and directed him to the bed, where he sat, pale and tense, fingers knotted together in his lap. He shook all over. Thrym snorted lightly.

“Thor, there’s no need to be afraid. I won’t hurt you. You’re here because you’re my bitch. I want you here. But tonight- you get tonight off. Rest. Settle in.” He didn’t move, refusing to believe Thrym truly wanted him here. He just wanted his services, that was all. The only reason he was protecting him. Despair and desperate need congealed in his stomach, sat heavy. Thrym made a chivvying motion with his hand.

“I said I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said. “Unpack.” He reached back and took his stuff, his photo of Jane, his magazine, his pen and writing pad and set it beside his bed. Thrym picked the photo up.

“Who’s this?” he asked. Thor felt familiar disgust creeping up his spine, along with the equally familiar urge to please Thrym.

“My girlfriend,” he said, softly, to the floor.

“She’s pretty,” Thrym said, and he just nodded. “Tell me about her.”

And he did.

XX

Thor had been in Thrym’s cell for three weeks when the attack came. Those three weeks were spent with different activities, depending on how Thrym felt, but Thor had relaxed as he realised what he was to do and slept easier.

He'd been taught to fight, to defend himself, after he'd been transferred, when he knew deep inside him, when Thrym knew that he would never attack him. He'd been taught to properly fight, to do more than flail in panic and smack about with a baseball bat. He learned to attack others, their weak spots, he learned to defend himself. He learned all this for the purpose of serving Thrym and wasn't quite able to divorce his disgust at himself from the pleasure he felt in serving well, though he learned quite aptly to ignore it by reminding himself that he had no chance without Thrym.

Thrym dictated how people around the prison responded to Thor, and he hadn’t been harassed in a long time. Thrym did not tolerate people messing around with his bitch.

That was why Thor was unprepared when a new inmate, Thrym’s size, thrust him to the ground one day and pinned him. He struggled once he got over the shock but it was too late. The wind was knocked out of his chest and a hand closed around his neck and all he could think was that Thrym would be so angry, so disappointed.

He felt the inmate’s cock, larger than Thrym’s, quest at his hole and drove his elbow into his nose. He heard a crack and then his arm was wrestled down painfully. He couldn’t let this stranger take him, didn’t want him anywhere near him. Thrym would kill him, would hate him. He bucked and fought and twisted his weight and the man’s face darkened.

“You bitch,” he snarled. “I’ll teach you.”

“Teach him what?” Thrym asked and he froze beneath the man, terror making his heart race. What would Thrym do to him for allowing another man on top of him? He heard Thrym stride closer.

“To respect me,” he said, and Thor heard his own shallow pants of breath as he was pulled close. Then a sickening crack was heard and the man’s weight was off of him. Thrym crouched before him and he made himself as small as possible.

“I,” he began. “I’m sorry, I—”

Thrym put a finger to his lips, pulled him to his feet.

“Are you alright?” he asked and his eyes widened. Then he nodded, remembering himself, his eyes still on the floor.

Thrym steered him out the cubicle.

“Wash in the sink,” he said and he did so, heart hammering, glancing back. He heard Thrym beating the other man, who grunted and tried to fight back, but he didn’t stand a chance.

All Thor could think about was the punishment he would get later as he numbly washed himself with soap and a cloth.

“You do not touch my bitch again,” he heard Thrym snarl at the inmate before dropping him to the floor with a crack. He stayed down. Thor flinched at it, at the anger in his voice and hunched his shoulders.

“Dress,” Thrym told him curtly and he scurried to obey. Thrym’s hand closed around his arm and he pulled him through the corridors, sitting him on his bed, and he had to speak.

“Thrym, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t hear him and wasn’t ready. I should have been ready.” Thrym silenced him with a look and he audibly gulped.

“Stop apologising,” he ordered. “This isn’t your fault.” His eyes widened. “He had to learn the rules, and you were caught off guard.” He smiled a little and Thor cautiously looked up at him. “I don’t blame you.”

He collapsed with relief onto the bed.

“All I could think,” he said. “I felt him pin me and I thought you’d be so angry, so disappointed- I don’t want to disappoint you, not ever.” Thrym chuckled lightly.

“I am angry,” he said, and he froze. “At him. But he won’t try it again.” His smile was dark and Thor sagged into the thin mattress. Thrym climbed onto the top bunk and he had to ask.

“Thrym,” he asked, timidly, “Why… why did you get so angry at him?” The force of his response shocked him.

“You’re _my_ bitch,” he said, something he often said when he was fucking him but Thor had always taken as meaningless words. “ _Mine_. And I will have no one else touch you.” His possessiveness warmed the ache in Thor and he relaxed, smiled.

He slept well that night.

XX

The next morning he examined Thrym through coy lashes, judging his mood, and dropped to his knees before him without any signal. Thrym’s shock made him pause a moment but he didn’t stop as he settled between his knees, waited for approval.

It was given with a nod and he mouthed at the hardening mound in Thrym’s pants for a minute before unzipping his pants and delicately stroking it to full hardness with care before his tongue darted into the slit and he licked at the crown, fingered at the base of it, fondled his balls as he enveloped the head in his warm, willing mouth. Thrym carded his fingers through his hair as he took him deeper, all the way, hummed around him and teased his slit with his tongue, the vein on the underside, cupped his balls in his hands. He pulled off to breathe on them, heard Thrym choke out a curse above him, felt his fingers tightening in his hair to pull him back on and he opened his mouth for it eagerly, panting, chest tight, his pants tightening as blood trickled into his cock but ignored it in favour of serving Thrym.

Thrym’s balls tightened in his hands as he thrust into his mouth, as he hummed about his shaft, drew him deeper in.

When Thrym spilled he swallowed it all and licked his lips. Thrym pulled his soft member from his mouth and stared down at him a moment.

“Well,” he said, finally. “What was that about?” Thor nuzzled close to his thigh and wasn’t refused.

“You’ve done so much for me,” he said. “Protected me. Yesterday, and from others like him. I just wanted to thank you.” Thrym’s laugh was light.

“Some thanks,” he said, and patted his hair. His eyes fell on Thor’s arousal and he didn’t move, waiting for him to decide. Then he put the heel of his bare foot on it and Thor gasped, fucked forward. He rubbed him firmly until he spilled with a broken cry. A gang member came in to call them down for breakfast and hurriedly retreated.

They appeared downstairs a few minutes later, Thrym still looking sideways at Thor, who looked pleased with himself.

Thor served with a lot more willingness from then on, much more attention to detail, much more care, sometimes initiating encounters if he thought Thrym in a good mood, spreading himself willingly for him to take his anger out on, preparing himself, without being asked and Thrym wasn’t sure what had prompted the change but certainly wasn’t complaining.

XX

Very few people were brave enough to curse Thrym out loud, or foolish enough, but wisdom had never been one of Tony Stark’s dominant traits.

And so when Thrym blocked his attempt to get supplies for his latest invention he cursed him out loud.

“Bloody Thrym, thinks he owns the place,” he muttered as he strode down the corridor. “His high and mightiness.”

Thor might have let it go before, when he felt disposable, but now- now only anger filled him. He strode forward and grabbed Tony.

“Excuse me?” he asked, voice icy, and Tony’s eyes widened.

“Thor?” he asked. Thor shook him.

“What did you say?” he asked. Tony sucked in a breath.

“Just that Thrym thinks he owns the place,” he said to the angry Thor.

Wisdom had never been a defining trait of Tony Stark.

Thor threw him into a wall and charged at him, laying into him as he squeaked, shocked, as he struggled to get to his feet. He failed and Thor kept beating him, beating him until two guards dragged him off him, smacked him around the head with their nightsticks and he finally stopped fighting them, dazed, gasping for breath.

He was taken for discipline that day and Tony to the infirmary.

He spent a week in solitary for the attack, and came out shaken (he’d never liked the dark, never liked being alone) but defiant and had no regrets.

“He insulted Thrym,” he said staunchly when asked again as to why he’d attacked Tony.

When Thrym heard he smiled.

“That’s my bitch,” he said, fondly.

When Thor was let back into the cell he marched in, head held high.

“I couldn’t let him say that about you,” he said by way of greeting. “I wouldn’t stand for it.” Thrym carded his fingers through his hair and fucked him long, deep and slow, tenderly, just the way he liked it. Fucked him like he was a lover. Fucked him until he was just _gone_ , mouth slack, grasping for Thrym in a daze, moaning continuously, and when he came it was harder than he ever had before.

He cradled him as he laid him in his bed.

“That’s my bitch,” he told him and he smiled as he drifted off into sleep.

XX

Word of the attack spread quickly, and soon no one was willing to even whisper a word against Thrym just in case Thor was around.

From that moment on it was known by all that Thor Odinson was Thrym’s man, totally, utterly and completely, and it was something the newcomers were quickly told.

They tested how far that loyalty went the other way, too. They talked shit about Thor when Thrym was around, the particularly stupid ones. Again, it was Tony, and Thrym got in his face, right in his face and asked in his quietest, most dangerous voice “What was that?”

Even Tony Stark had wisdom.

He said nothing and ran.

XX

It was no surprise to anyone when Thor came to breakfast one day bearing the blue fist of Thrym proudly on his bicep.


	2. Stand on Your Convictions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve Roger's arrival throws everything into chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was in this chapter that Book_Wyrm and I found ourselves cursing Steve for doing the right thing and wondering what this story was doing to us.

**Part Two: Stand on Your Convictions**

They were watching the new meat arrive a few months later when one man caught Thrym’s eye. He was blonde and blue eyed, like Thor, and Thor felt a thrill of jealousy which he quickly squashed.

He was Thrym’s man and Thrym cared about him, but he was still his bitch. It wasn’t his place to question him. He stilled at his side but still glared at the man who had caught Thrym’s attention.

He held himself high in a way many others weren’t, a way Thor hadn’t, and Thor could see why Thrym had taken notice of him.

“Blondie!” Thrym called, and the man did not turn, not the way Thor had when he was called. He acted like he hadn’t heard at all. “I’ve got my eye on you!” He was practically dismissive of him and Thor felt new anger flare through him.

No one dismissed Thrym.

If Thrym wanted this new inmate, then he would have him. Thor would see to it.

Thrym’s hand on his hip distracted him and he turned to him.

“What do you think it would take to break him?” he asked, gesturing at the blonde, and Thor pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“He’s proud, boss,” he said. “Look at how he holds his head, how he ignores you.” His anger bubbled to the surface at that and Thrym smiled, curled his hand about his hip a little more. He resumed his previous train of thought. “But what would break his pride… I could scout it out for you?” he offered.

“Do so,” Thrym said, and held him flush against his body. Thor felt a rush of triumph over the unknown inmate. _He’s still mine_ he thought at him, knowing exactly how ridiculous it was and not caring.

XX

Steve looked around at the mass of criminals and felt himself hold his head higher. He was a police officer and he would not be taken in by this place, would not sink to their level. He did not belong here. He had been framed. He was innocent. Anger flared through him, bright and burning.

He was still watching the criminals around him when a big, tattooed man caught his eye. He held it, steadily, set his jaw and raised his chin. He would not present a weak target. He knew these kinds of people only too well. He saw the big man, bigger than him, smirk.

He knew the stories, what he wanted.

He could try.

The man gestured to a blonde standing beside him, pulled him close with a hand curved low on his hip, possessive, a hold the other did not fight but leaned into. He spoke quietly to him and he waited for his orders, the tattoo on his shoulder rippling as he looked over at Steve, a blue fist like the others around him wore. Then he nodded and pulled away, headed over to Steve.

His hair was long, tied loosely back into a ponytail, a ponytail that reached halfway down his broad back. His eyes were bright blue. He was well built, his toned chest clear under his shirt, but not so well built as the tattooed man. Steve watched warily as he approached, shifted his stance, ready to fight.

“Thrym wants you,” he said without preamble, an odd edge to his voice, barely there and disappearing fast. Steve held his head high, held his strong, confident gaze. “And he’ll have you, whether you agree or not.” His words were matter-of-fact, as if he was not threatening rape on an innocent man, and Steve hated this place all the more.

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Are you threatening me?” he asked. The man snorted, met his eyes.

“Hardly. Informing you.” Steve searched his face. His eyes were hard yet friendly and his mouth was soft. He looked as if he might still smile. Or perhaps kiss the tattooed man. Did prison bitches kiss their- masters? Was that the right term?

“Is that how he got you?” he asked, and there was definite warning in the way the man’s muscles rippled and his jaw set. His arms crossed over his chest and his chin rose.

“You’ll want to make it easier for yourself,” he said. Steve straightened proudly.

“I don’t like bullies,” he said, “And this is bullying.” The man shrugged, unconcerned.

“This is prison life,” he said.

Steve turned his back on him and walked away, felt his eyes on him and then enveloped himself in the throng of people in the corridor. He turned at the end to see Thrym and his gang walking away, the big man following at Thrym’s heels faithfully.

He shuddered at the thought he might end up like him.

XX

Thor sat beside Thrym at lunch, watching as he watched the blonde, Rogers, eating a few tables away with a number of newcomers.

“Do you want me to befriend him?” he asked and Thrym gave him a long, measuring look. His lips twitched in a smirk.

“You’re jealous,” he said and Thor did not reply, setting his jaw. His hand curved over his shoulder, brushed his hair from his face. “No need to be- you’re my bitch. I’m keeping you close.” Thor relaxed into the touch. “Yes, I want you to get close to him. Find out what makes him tick. What will break him.” His head curved in a nod, gracefully.

“Of course,” he said, and Thrym’s hand passed down his side to splay on his hip, casually possessive, and he revelled in the touch, his head canting back, eyes fluttering closed. The gang turned away to give them a measure of privacy. Thrym’s hand lifted.

“Go on,” he said, and Thor rose, took his tray and headed to the table. The inmates automatically cleared a space for him. He put his tray down beside Steve.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “Don’t worry.” Some looked down at their trays while others kept meeting his eyes. “I’m Thor,” he offered.

Rogers was the first to speak.

“Steve Rogers,” he said, warily. Thor inclined his head to him.

“It is a pleasure,” he said. Steve did not return the greeting. The others started to talk then.

“I’m Fandral,” said a blonde man who was staring at his plate, his hands shaking, gripping the cutlery white-knuckled.

“Hogun,” said an oriental man who met his eyes straight, no trace of fear in his proud back or sharp eyes.

Volstagg was a transfer. He knew prison rhythms. He looked between Thor and Steve and met Thor’s eyes in question. In silent answer Thor indicated Thrym behind him and Volstagg made a soft noise of comprehension at the stiffness of Thor’s back, the unhappiness in his eyes.

Their conversation was innocuous but Steve kept giving him hard, long looks, knowing what he was up to.

XX

He sought Steve out alone later. Steve spurned him, and by extension Thrym, and he felt thunder gathering in him.

“He will have you,” he vowed under his breath. “You’ll see.”

XX

“Steve,” Thor said a few days later, knocking on his cell door. Steve stiffened. “Steve, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to try to stop you from being hurt.” Steve turned to him, sharply.

“You say that,” he said. “Then you threaten rape on me.” Thor lifted his head high, eyes flashing.

“This could be hard for you or easy,” he said, voice hard. “I’d make it easy were I you. It could be very hard.” He paused, his eyes flicking down, and then Steve shut his mouth.

“Oh,” he said, very softly. Thor lifted his head, daring him to pity him.

“I know why you’re fighting. I have a girlfriend.” Steve gaped at him.

“You have a girlfriend and you let him-” he began, spluttered. Thor stared him down and he shut his mouth, frowned deeply.

“Why?” he asked. Shame flickered in Thor’s eyes and then he straightened.

“Because I must,” he said, simply. His mouth twisted in a slight, rueful smile. “Life is hard here. Best take pleasure where you can find it.” Steve sucked in a breath. “He can be gentle, you know. He can make it good. It doesn’t have to be terrible. You just have to say yes.” Steve backed off a pace.

“Thor, listen to yourself,” he said. “You’re defending the man who raped you into compliance. Who rapes you still.” He knew he’d gone too far when Thor’s eyes flashed, hard and unforgiving.

“He protects me,” he said and Steve shivered at the steel in his voice. “He keeps everyone off of me. I help him and he helps me.”

“You let him fuck you,” Steve said.

“I let him fuck me,” Thor agreed. “I take pleasure in it. I take pleasure in serving him, I take pleasure in being fucked. Because sometimes we have to do things that we don’t like at first but end up good. Because there’s little enough pleasure in this life.” Steve took a step back, his breathing fast.

“Thor,” he said. “Think of your girlfriend.” Thor sighed.

“There are only two kinds of life here,” he said. “You fuck or you are fucked. You are or you have a bitch.” Steve felt his heart twist with pity.

“You’re wrong,” he said. “There’s more than this. I’ll show you.”

Thor ignored him, walked away.

XX

The next time Thor came over it wasn't nearly so charged. Steve avoided the subject of Thrym, of Thor's girlfriend, and instead asked about prison rhythms. He was tense but slowly relaxed as the big man set him at ease. Thor had a tendency to get excited about things and his whole body lit up when he talked about cars.

"I'm a mechanic, you see. I can fix anything," he boasted. "I always loved cars. Baldur-" his lips thinned on the name as always when he mentioned him, "He never understood why. But I just, I don't know, I understand them. They speak to me, you know?" He earnestly watched Steve and Steve chuckled.

"I know a woman like that," he said and Thor's face split into a broad grin that Steve help but return.

He was charismatic and it was easy to believe his friendship. He couldn't lie to save his life, wore his emotions on his face, so he knew it was true, and he slowly forgot about Thrym, about his threats, about the matter-of-fact way he delivered them.

When Thor smiled, it felt like the whole world was right.

XX

“Watch out for him,” a voice Steve didn’t know said behind him and he turned, wary, to find a small man watching him. “He’s here on orders.” Steve frowned.

“Thor?” he asked. The man nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “You should know before you accidently step in it. He’s Thrym’s man- his bitch. His loyalty to him is unshakeable.” Steve frowned.

“But he, he likes me,” he said. “I mean, unless he’s lying about that.”

“Sure he likes you,” the man said. “But if Thrym doesn’t like you then you can forget about his friendship. He would never go against Thrym.” Steve rested his head on his hands, huffed out a breath, confusion and weariness resting heavy in his stomach.

“So why is he being so friendly?” he asked.

“Because Thor’s friendly – that’s why. And Thrym wants you. If he has to, Thor will hold you down himself so he can have you.” Steve’s eyes widened in horror and the other man just shook his head. “But he’s being genuine about this. He wants you to avoid that.” Steve shook his head.

“This place is confusing,” he said. “I shouldn’t even be here.” The man sat beside him, watched him. His gaze was flat and steely but caring.

“Why is that?” he asked.

“I was framed,” Steve said, anger exploding out of him. “My partner was killed and I was framed.” The man looked down.

“Ah,” he said. “I’m Bruce, by the way. Bruce Banner.”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve said, offering his hand. Bruce did not take it and he hastily retracted it.

“Um, sorry,” he said. “Still getting used to the rules here.”

“You’ll learn,” Bruce said. He rose. “Just be careful of Thor, and never ever insult Thrym in front of him – he beat a man half-dead for that once.” Steve’s eyes widened.

“Actually, best never to insult Thrym out loud. He controls the drug trade, the contraband trade, everything. You insult Thrym, nobody will have anything to do with you.” Steve narrowed his eyes, leaned forward.

“Who knows about him controlling it?” he asked. Bruce snorted.

“Everyone,” he said. Steve’s eyes widened.

“And nobody’s reported him?” At that Bruce laughed.

“Nobody rats anybody else out,” he said. “Especially since we all owe Thrym something. He’s not one to mess with.” He was silent for a moment. “Steve, you’re a cop. There are different laws here. Learn them.” Bruce nodded to him.

“Good day,” he said, and left, leaving Steve reeling, trying to match the big, friendly man he knew with a man who was that violently loyal to another, trying to figure out why nobody would tell on criminal behaviour.

The answer was laughably easy.

Everyone here was a criminal.

XX

Jane had come to visit him before and he always felt bad, but this visit seemed the worse. Memories of frantically riding Thrym the night before, his satisfied glow at Thrym’s approval, the way he sought more, always more, consumed him. Staring at her through the thick glass, the phone shaking in his hand, he could not meet her eyes.

“Thor,” she said, and his eyes flickered up to her briefly.

He never felt worse about what he did than when he was with her. She put her hand on the glass and he didn’t return the gesture. She looked frayed, worried and old, and he felt utterly terrible for doing this to her.

“I’m sorry, Jane,” he whispered into the phone and she frowned, concerned.

“Thor?” she asked. “Thor, what’s wrong?” He dropped his head and exhaled.

“Jane, I,” he began. “The stories- you know the stories.” Her eyes widened.

“Thor, you didn’t,” she breathed, shock in her every line. He felt tears gathering behind his eyes and his shoulders shook.

“I’m so sorry, Jane,” he whispered, and hung the phone up, moving away. She rose, he saw her lips moving, but didn’t stop. Thrym met him outside and put at an arm around his shoulders. He shook helplessly beneath him and his grip tightened.

“Tell me what happened,” he ordered. Tears spilled down his cheeks.

“I told her,” he whispered. “I told her, I.” He bowed his head, unable to find further words and Thrym led him to the cell, sat him down.

“Tell me,” he said, mockingly gentle, and he trembled. “Tell me,” he ordered, voice hard, and he flinched.

“I told her,” he said. “I told her and just walked out, I can’t, I…” Thrym took a step back, raised an eyebrow and he hunched over.

“You can’t?” he asked.

“I just, please I can’t,” he whispered. “Please.” Thrym stepped close.

“You can’t,” he said, flatly, and finally Thor dragged his eyes up to his. “You forget your place, bitch.” He slumped in surrender.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

When Thrym shoved him to the floor he spread his legs and waited.

XX

Thrym kept him at his side for days, keeping a sharp eye on him, and Steve saw his resignation and despair and worried.

“Remember your place, bitch,” Thrym told Thor in his cell as he pushed him to his knees between his legs and Thor opened his mouth automatically. He tried to regain his spirit, his energy as he lapped at his slit, sucked at his head, to get back into the rhythm he knew so well, but the look on Jane’s face when she realised what he was doing brought him crashing down into despair and depression again.

“Forget her,” Thrym snarled at him. “You serve me.” And he tightened his grip on his hair until it was painful. He felt the tip of his cock thrust into his throat, which opened for him, and he breathed in through his nose, breathed in the musky scent that once invigorated him.

He nodded as soon as he was pulled off, bowed his head obediently, submissively.

“Of course,” he said. “I forgot myself. I am sorry.” Thrym gave him a long look and he kept his eyes cast to the floor. “I won’t forget again.” He waited until Thrym nodded and stepped back.

“Don’t forget it,” he said.

He tried, hard, to forget about Jane. Not to think about her, not to let his despair overwhelm him again. He did what he was told, mechanically at first then with more vigour as he forcibly pulled himself, as Thrym pulled him from his funk.

He sent him to talk to Steve again, and Steve didn’t turn him away. He looked concernedly at him.

“I heard about Jane,” he began and Thor cut him off with a sharp look.

“Do not speak of her,” he snapped, and Steve swallowed.

“But Thor, she’s your girlfriend,” he said. Thor rose sharply to his feet and Steve stared at Thrym’s tattoo on his shoulder. He sighed.

“He took her from you,” he said, softly, and he stalked off. Before he left he spun around again.

“He took nothing from me,” he said, flatly.

XX

Thrym raised an eyebrow at him when he returned and he cringed.

“I told you to speak to him,” he said.

“I did,” he said. He hesitated. “He spoke about Jane.” Thrym raised an eyebrow.

“And you walked away?” Thor bowed his head, sucked in a deep breath.

“Yes,” he said, softly.

The punch took him totally by surprise. He tasted blood in his mouth and struck the floor, reeling, blinked, eyes wide.

“You fool,” Thrym snarled. “I told you to speak to him, now speak to him!” Head bowed he left fast.

Steve did not mention Jane again when Thor returned, a bruise on his cheek, red and swollen, didn’t ask about the bruise, didn’t ask about how badly Thor was shaking.

He watched his friend, spoke to him about nothing of importance and hated Thrym.

XX

Thor received a letter from Jane. He stared at it for a long time and left it unopened on his bed. He left it there when he went to dinner and when he returned, it was gone. He frowned at his empty bed.

“You don’t need her,” Thrym said, and he hesitated before nodding, swallowing.

“Yeah,” he said, and let out a long breath. “Yeah, I know.” He glanced up at Thrym. “I have you.” Thrym smiled at him and he felt a knot relax in his stomach.

“Yes, you do,” he said, and his breathing eased.

If Jane sent any more letters Thrym intercepted them before Thor saw them. He tried not to wonder.

XX

Deprived of Jane’s love he needed Thrym more than ever and, in desperation for the only true affection he had, oft offered himself in the morning. He hated his desperation but it wasn’t soothed until Thrym accepted him, and Thrym often reassured him that he wasn’t going to drop him.

“I’ll protect you,” he said as Thor sat before him, held his hands between his, and Thor sought more of his touch. “I’m here for you.” He relaxed then, but it took many weeks for him to be sure of his place again, to be sure of Thrym’s affection.

Thrym pulled him close after he was done, tipped his face up and made him look at him.

“I will not abandon you,” he said. “In fact, I’ve a job for you.” He rose and gestured that Thor should rise, dress, which he did, waiting, hands clasped before him for his orders. Thrym handed him a small packet which he tucked beneath his shirt.

“Take this to Thanos,” he said and he headed out the cell, tipping his head in acknowledgement. Thrym called his name.

“Thor,” he said, and he stopped, turned. Thrym was smiling. “Get that past the guards and I’ll reward you.”

He moved faster.

XX

It was widely known that Thor was Thrym’s man in more ways than one, that his loyalty to him was unshakeable. It was known that he ran his errands, did runs for him. The guards had long suspected Thrym was responsible for the contraband that circled the prison but had never been able to catch him.

They were still taken in by Thor’s friendly smile, his wide blue eyes, his charisma as he chatted with them on the way to Thanos’s cell. Thanos was a big man and, though he’d never admit it, scared Thor. But he had Thrym’s protection and took comfort in that.

He excused himself and met Thanos at the door. Thanos grunted and let him in. He found Loki inside and nodded to him with a smile.

Loki was not as lucky as him. Thanos didn’t care for his comfort, but at least he protected him. His answering smile was weak as Thor turned back to Thanos.

“Payment,” he said. Thanos grunted and dug out a pack of cigarettes, handed him half a dozen. Thor raised an eyebrow at him. He threw him two more, looking displeased.

Only then did Thor hand his drugs over. Thanos wanted him gone instantly but he stayed to talk to Loki for a minute.

“Thor,” Loki said, slightly pale. Thor looked him up and down.

“He treating you well?” he asked and Thanos glared at him. He ignored him, secure in Thrym’s protection. Loki nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, staring at Thanos behind him, and Thor left.

XX

Thor ate with Loki some days and they talked of nothing of consequence. He ate with Steve others, never stopped trying to convince him that it was best to just give in.

“Do you really believe that?” Steve asked him and he met his eyes squarely.

“Yes,” he said, firmly.

Steve never gave up on him, no more than he gave up on Steve. He liked Steve and wanted to spare him the pain he’d suffered. But Steve didn’t give up, and Thrym lost patience with him.

His men cornered him in the shower, and he spared Thor the need to participate, to Thor’s gratitude. He didn’t want to hurt his friend.

Thrym and the boys returned thunderous and he automatically flinched away, breath fast, reaching for the lube. He knew what Thrym wanted when he was like this.

“Your friend Rogers did this,” he snarled, gestured at a red mark on his cheek, and Thor cringed, worked faster. Thrym watched him, pacing predatorily, eyes never leaving him until he lay spread and waited.

He was not gentle and Thor bit his tongue to weather the storm of his anger. He ached for hours after and quietly hated Steve.

Steve would no more speak to him than he would to Steve for days.

XX

“Your master tried to have a go at me,” he said flatly to him and Thor held his head high.

“I warned you,” he said. Steve’s eyes flashed with anger and he rounded on him. They were of equal size and Thor readied for a fight.

“You knew what would happen,” he said. “I bet he told you before he left. And you didn’t stop him.” Thor barked out a laugh.

“Stop him?” he asked. “Life is fucked up, Rogers. Stop crying about it.”

Steve threw the first punch. He nimbly dodged and came at him with an upper cut, which Steve blocked, stepped close and threw his elbow at his face. Thor tried to pull his legs from under him but they were evenly matched and it took the guards to end it.

“I’ll fuck you myself, bitch,” Thor snarled at him as he was dragged off. “I’ll teach you.”

“You can try, Odinson,” Steve snapped back, voice icy.

XX

When he came back to the cell it was to find Thrym waiting, eyebrow raised. He did not regret a single word or punch.

“Fancy doing the fucking do you?” Thrym asked, an amused quirk to his lips, but he knew that he was far from unhappy.

“You still want him?” he asked instead of answering and Thrym’s eyes flashed angrily. He knew it wasn’t aimed at him.

“I’ll teach him,” he said, and Thor held himself high, proud. A dark smile touched his lips.

“I’m with you,” he said. Thrym looked him up and down.

“You can fuck him as hard as you want,” he said, and Thor felt his smile spread. “I’ll hold him down myself.”

XX

Steve watched Thor as he sat with Loki and they talked amiably and he felt sorry for the both of them. Bitches both, they heeled to another in ways no man should, feared their masters, and yet he knew that if push came to shove they would back them rather than run.

He simply didn’t understand why.

“Steve,” Bruce said from behind him and he turned to him. Though he’d never been in favour, Bruce stayed his friend, for which he was very grateful. He moved aside, closed his drawing pad.

“Hey, Bruce,” he said. Bruce followed his eye line.

“You aren’t still thinking you can talk him out of serving Thrym, surely,” he said, and he shook his head, regret in his eyes.

“No,” he said. “I know I can’t. Thrym’s hold over him is too strong.” Bruce regarded him silently and he sighed. “I just thought he could have been my friend once. I pity him.” Bruce snorted.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” he said. His face hardened.

“I can take him,” he said, then sighed. “I just don’t understand why he’s Thrym’s man. I mean, all he does to him…” Bruce shrugged.

“It’s a bitch thing,” he said. “They’re all like that. Even Loki there.” Steve watched the dark haired man for a moment.

“I know,” he said. Bruce cocked his head.

“You’re never going to understand,” he said, “If you don’t try. This is a different world, Steve, with different rules. Thrym, Thanos, they protect them in exchange for their services. You know what happens to the unattached.” He shuddered. He knew alright. He’d seen them, cringing in corners, harassed by everyone. “They let them fuck them and they stop that. It builds loyalty, a thing like that.”

Steve’s gaze dropped to his hands, his book, and he sighed.

“I don’t want to understand,” he admitted. “I don’t want to know why they don’t fight. I don’t belong here, Bruce. I’m innocent.” Bruce gave him a long look.

“We all were once,” he said, and said no more.

XX

Steve snooped around Thrym’s operation. No one would talk to him but he was a cop- that was his job, to snoop. No one took kindly to him for it but he could have cared less.

Thrym was behind the smuggling rings, he knew it. Everyone did. He was going to find the evidence to prove it.

As he expected, Thor was squarely in the middle of everything. He was Thrym’s bitch, in every sense of the word, and as bad as he felt for him he could not feel bad about taking him down. He was a criminal, everyone here was, and he would not stand for it.

If taking Thrym down meant taking Thor down – and he knew it did, Thor was his faithful dog – then so be it. He knew what Thor did to those who disrespected his master. He knew the depth of Thor’s devotion to him.

He would never be able to leave Thor out of it, so he didn’t even try.

XX

The next letter Thor received that he actually received was from his mother.

Thrym met his eyes and his lips twisted in a smile.

"I don't mess with mothers," he said and Thor had to laugh as he opened it. The sight of his mother's neat handwriting made his heart ache, brought back memories of firmly-worded notes that he was not to forget to bring eggs home _again_ and he sucked in a deep breath as he began to read.

It enquired as to his health, his daily life and informed him she was visiting him the next week and she expected him to be there unless he was in isolation- and she would be highly disappointed if he was, he had better be finally behaving himself. After all, his brother was no longer there to lead him the wrong way.

Speaking of Baldur, he was fine. He'd settled into prison life and was writing to her to complain about his lack of freedom. She had no sympathy for him; he was the dumbass who'd robbed the shop, he deserved it. But at least, she pointedly added, he was writing to her- something Thor had better remedy fast or she'd have to start visiting him every day and he didn't want to force her to do that.

It was signed with a friendly 'love, Mother.'

He had to laugh. It was so like his mother. Thrym looked over at him and he handed it over, knowing that if he read it out loud he would tear up and he hated showing weakness.

When Thrym handed it back he gave him a questioning look.

"Who am I to argue with your mother? She sounds like a formidable woman," he said and Thor nodded fervently.

"She will be unhappy if I miss her time," he said, dryly. Thrym clapped his shoulder.

"God forbid that I get you in trouble," he said. "You meet her." Thor tucked the letter into his shirt and sat down on his bed, folding his hands in his lap. He looked up at Thrym, judging his mood. Thrym caught his eyes and waited for his assessment.

He swallowed and took a deep breath. He was always nervous when it was left in his hands- he could read Thrym well but was never confident about doing the right thing.

Thrym was watching him intensely, eyes hooded, leaning forward and Thor felt something hot crawl down his spine at the way he was watching him. He met his eyes, almost sure that he was right, and slowly rose, lifting his shirt.

Thrym's eyes darkened with lust and he felt heat curl at the base of his spine, felt himself shiver as he pulled it over his head and watched Thrym lean further forward.

He slipped his pants off and pulled the bottle of lube from the draw. Thrym rose, strode close to him, stepped behind him and took it from him.

"Allow me," he said, voice husky, and Thor shivered as he was bent over the bed, spread himself. He heard the click of the bottle and then cold fingers ran down his spine, rested on his cheeks.

"You're mine," he said, and a moan broke from him. He could feel Thrym smile above him as he slipped a finger into him. "My bitch." He pushed back, breath quickening, whining slightly.

Thrym laughed, leaned close.

"Slut," he murmured, affectionately.

XX

Thor dreaded Mother's visit.

It wasn't that he didn't want to see her; he did, he missed her terribly, though he did wish it could be without the thick glass and tinny telephone voices; but he dreaded her knowing what he was doing.

And she would know. She was perceptive, she would see it, and he didn't even want to think about her judgement. He wondered if she was still in touch with Jane and found he didn't want to know.

But of course she found out. He was escorted into the booth and felt like a little boy again when he saw Mother waiting on the other side, an eyebrow raised, phone pressed to her ear.

"It's been months," she said without preamble, "Over a year. And you haven't written once." He cringed slightly.

_"Don't you dare forget the eggs, Thor!"_

_"I won't, Mother," he promised her._

_He remembered the eggs only when he came home to find her looking expectantly at him and he winced._

_"I'll remember next time," he muttered, knowing even as he said it he wouldn't._

He shook the memory off.

"I've been busy," he said, trying to ward off the memories of all he'd done with Thrym with little success. Her sharp eyes caught the way his shoulders slumped just a little and his eyes flickered down.

"Too busy to write?" she asked and he flushed. She sighed, pressed her hand to the glass. He returned the gesture after a moment.

"Who is it?" she asked, in a weighted voice, and he felt trapped and helpless again. He hoped Thrym wouldn't be angry at him.

"His name is Thrym," he said, and even he could hear the semi-reverent tone he put on the name. She met his eyes sharply but didn't interrupt him. "He protects me."

"Does he treat you well?" she asked, not inquiring as to the exact nature of payment for this protection, much to relief. He didn't think he could have said it out loud, not to her. Not to anyone outside.

Here, here it made sense. Here it was normal, natural. But outside people wouldn't understand. Hell, even Baldur wouldn't understand, though he'd probably expect it of him. He could just imagine Baldur's sharp, biting words.

_"You slut," he'd say, and it wouldn't be a term of endearment, not like with Thrym. "You pathetic slut."_

_Thor wondered what he'd say back; probably nothing. That was the way it had always worked between them, ever since they were old enough to walk, to talk. Baldur, his beloved little brother, would lead them into trouble and leave Thor to take the rap._

_Mother fell for it for only a few years. It was when they were twelve and ten that she realised the mastermind behind the schemes and began to punish Baldur instead, but Baldur never stopped, never stopped goading Thor into going further, doing more._

_When Baldur first robbed a small grocer's on the corner, he roped Thor in to watch the door._

_"I might even give you some of the spoils," he said. "Now come on."_

_Thor had stood his ground._

_"No," he snapped. "I won't break the law." Baldur turned to him, eyes flashing cruelly._

_"Are you scared?" he asked and Thor glowered fiercely. "The Mighty Thor, afraid of a few cops."_

_In reply Thor had stalked out the door._

He nodded.

"He does," he said, softly, and Mother sighed, dropped her hand. An instant later her demeanour changed, hardened, and he was grateful she didn't pursue the subject.

"You stay in line now," she said, sharply. "I don't want to hear of you breaking the rules." He couldn't tell her about Tony, about the drug running, about keeping lookout and keeping the guards off the tails of the other gang members.

"Yes, Mother," he said, a promise he had broken a hundred times, one he would break a hundred times more, a promise like every other he made to her, and her long-suffering eyes made him ashamed of how perfectly aware of this she was. She rested her forehead on the glass a moment, looking suddenly old.

"You boys will be the death of me," she said, and a guard came in. He looked up.

"Time's up," he said, and Thor nodded, turned back to the glass.

"I'll write," he said. Mother's smile was watery and he did not want to see her cry, not ever.

"You had better," she said.

"I will," he said. "Tell Father I love him- and Baldur, when you see him next." She nodded, gathering herself.

"I will," she said, and the guard's eyes burned through Thor. His lips tightened for a moment.

"I love you, Mother," he said.

"I love you too," she said. "Keep safe." Then he hung up and was escorted out.

Thrym was waiting outside for him and he looked up at him.

"No tears this time?" he asked, scoffing, and Thor cringed at the reminder of how he'd fallen apart after Jane's last visit. He resolutely held himself straight and did not reply.

XX

Steve poked and pried into their organisation and was rebuffed at every turn. But somehow he managed to find things out, to gather enough that they took things even more carefully than they already did.

Thor was frequently searched by the guards, and he hated Steve a little more each time, knowing that Steve had told them of the runs he made, no matter what he did to try to divert them, and Thrym stopped sending him on runs.

He was furious at Steve when that happened. He was useful on runs. He liked being useful. He glared long and hard at Steve that breakfast and Steve met his eyes steadily, eating with Bruce and Tony.

Bruce was impartial. He ate with Steve but he also ate with others. He flitted around and maintained good relations with everyone, when he wasn't angry. When he was angry everyone stayed away from him, for he was much stronger than he looked, and had a temper that kept even Thrym away from him at times. That Bruce spoke to Steve was expected and Bruce wasn't blacklisted for it.

Tony, though, should have known better. He was not popular, always saying things he shouldn't, doing things he shouldn't, provoking the wrong people and refused to adhere to the culture. He slept with everyone but no one protected him and he was often harassed.

Thor could not feel bad for him.

That Tony was with Steve put him firmly on the blacklist, further than he already was. He'd never told on anyone before but now he was implicated in what Steve was doing, in tattling, and there was nothing worse than tattling.

Steve protected him as best he could but couldn't be with him all the time; and even if he could have been Tony would have refused his help.

They weren't sure what evidence Steve had gathered on them but one day there was a random inspection and the guards knew just where to look.

Both Thrym and Thor were taken into solitary. Thor was let out much sooner than Thrym, being only a runner after all, and was antsy as he waited for Thrym's return. He was hostile to everyone but the gang and the gang was equally hostile.

Steve didn't stop following his routine, glaring at them whenever they stepped in his way, glared or muttered darkly at him.

He was far too good to be taken off guard normally but one day they managed. It was in the shower and Thor had been training. He was good. All Thrym's men were.

When they ganged up on him Steve was at a serious disadvantage. He fought and he put up a good fight but they got him on the ground. He never stopped fighting them.

The guards came by then and they were forced to back off. Thor met Steve's eyes.

"Next time," he promised, threatened. Steve met his gaze evenly as he rose with extreme dignity.

"You can try," he said.

He reported them all to the guards, and they were disciplined. They were even angrier than before afterwards but Steve refused to let himself be cowed.

XX

When Thrym was finally let out of solitary he was furious. Thor had already prepared himself, ready for a long, rough night, but even he took a step back when he saw Thrym, eyes widening, bracing for a blow. The gang warily hung back as Thrym paced, making plan after plan to kill Steve, to make him pay.

And finally his eyes fell on Thor and he sent the others out. Thor waited for him to yank him down, to take out his fury on him, and he did. He pulled him to his knees so hard they ached for minutes after and all he could do was keep his teeth out of the way, then he thrust him on his stomach and impaled him with his fingers until he was ready to go again. He was rough and his strokes were punishing, but Thor knew none of his rage was directed at him, that he was just a conduit.

He held as still as possible for him, spread himself wider, took everything Thrym gave with as much grace as he could. He couldn't help wincing when he was rubbed raw, couldn't help his sounds of pain, but tried to muffle them. He bit his arm at one point as Thrym marked him up, scratched down his back, bit roughly to reclaim him, to claim his place, to work through his anger.

He was going to hurt, he knew.

Finally Thrym looked him in the eyes and he knew the worst had passed. He bowed his head and waited as he gruffly turned him around to look at his back and tossed him a pot of cream.

"Use this," he said. It was as much of an apology as he ever would get, and he spread it as best he could over his cuts and bruises but just couldn't reach some. He winced when he twisted, when he moved but had suffered much worse; he was fine.

Thrym was lying on his bunk, still muttering, and Thor was as silent as possible, not wanting to disturb him.

The next morning Thrym rubbed the cream into his back, gently.

"You're so good," he said and he felt the warm glow of satisfaction fill him, felt himself relax. "So open for me." He rubbed it into a bruise near his hole and Thor couldn't help but tense. Thrym didn't do anything though. "You take what I give so sweetly."

Thor could not help but smile.

XX

When Steve saw Thor’s bruises the next day he grimaced, paused, made as if to turn to him, opened his mouth to speak to him, but Thor’s icy glare stopped him.

He sighed.

“Thrym’s man,” Bruce said softly from behind him and he nodded, exhaled a long breath.

“Aye,” he said, watching him. He rose and went to drop his tray off for washing before straightening his clothes, pushing his hair back off his face, a smile forming on his lips. When he’d exchanged pleasantries with the man who took the tray he went back to Thrym, spoke quietly to him and was waved off. He headed outside, a spring in his step. He still didn’t understand; not at all. All the bruises, all the torment. He knew he feared him, and yet knew that his loyalty was based on affection equally much as fear.

“Look,” Bruce said. “I know you don’t get it, but let me try to explain.” Steve turned to him and he nodded at the door Thor had just left by. “Look around you; these men haven’t so much as seen a woman for years, most of them. And Thor, he’s pretty. He has a soft, boyish face. He has long hair. He is very pretty.” Steve was staring at Bruce, who shrugged. “That’s just the way it is, Steve.”

He dug his spoon into his soup, spun it in the bowl idly.

“Believe me when I say Thrym wasn’t the only one interested in him when he arrived. He’s soft, or he was; he was scared; he was vulnerable. And vulnerability is exploited here. You, you’re a fighter. You have the strength to fend them off. Or you’d be like him now.” His eyes narrowed and Bruce waved his protest off. “You would be. He was no fighter when he came, he couldn’t fight them off. You haven’t been on the receiving end of the stares, jeers, touches. You haven’t been wanted by everyone because you’re so unpopular. But him? When he came he was harassed constantly. He was just lucky that Thrym took such a vested interest in him and no one fights Thrym or he’d be one of those poor fuckers like Tony.” Steve stiffened.

“Tony isn’t a poor fucker,” he snapped and Bruce’s lips twisted.

“Aye, he is,” he said. “Before you came around and started protecting him, even now he has to, he prostituted himself out to keep people off him.” Steve’s eyes widened.

“He doesn’t have to do that!” Bruce snorted lightly.

“Of course he does,” he said. “He’s small, he’s weak and unattached. What else can he do?” Steve looked down at the table.

“Anyway,” he said, “Thor. He owes Thrym, and he knows it. He cooperates, Thrym is gentle, Thrym rewards him. He starts feeling grateful to him, he cooperates more. But he fights, it's bad. It’s better to cooperate, and by the time you realise you’re slipped into affection you’re already loyal to him. But you don’t mind by that point.” Steve was horrified.

“So even if Thrym was gone…” he said, slowly. Bruce nodded.

“It’s too late,” he said.

XX

Everywhere has its share of idiots, prison just like any other place. There may have been more idiots, more dangerous idiots, but they were idiots like any other. These two, however, were especially idiotic idiots, and had cornered Thor in a corridor, eyes intent.

Thor had already looked them up and down and concluded they’d go down easy. He could take men twice his size on, you just had to know their weak spots. Of course, everyone knew how to fight here.

But these two were angry, and anger made people careless.

“You,” one of them snapped as they advanced on him. He raised an eyebrow, looked around.

“Who?” he asked, innocently, his tone utterly mocking. “Oh! You mean me!” The man’s eyes narrowed.

“You weren’t nearly so cocksure when we had you against a shower,” they growled. Thor laughed easily.

“Wasn’t nearly so full of cock either,” he returned. “You left something to be desired.” Fury congealed in their eyes and one took a step forward, his fist coming up. Thor shifted his stance, ready to defend himself, though he’d hardly need to against these two.

“You,” he snarled again.

“Bitch,” Thor finished. The man stopped, stared at him. “Oh, weren’t you going to say it? I’m sorry, I thought that was default choice of insult for you. Or is that ‘slut’?” He pushed past them and one grabbed his shoulder. He spun and snapped him in the jaw, twisting his arm, making him draw it back with a yell of pain.

“Don’t put a hand on me again,” he said, and they stared at him. “Yeah, I’ve learned a thing or two. Fighting, fucking, much the same aren’t they?” He winked at them and strolled off and all they could do was stare after him, fuming.

“We’re watching you!” they shouted after him.

“Perverts,” he retorted.

XX

Steve kept digging, trying to break the smuggling ring but it sprouted up everywhere. He stared hard at Thor, as if trying to break him just by looking at him, and Thor met his gaze. He kept watching everyone he knew was involved but could do no more than he’d already done, no more than just report it and hope that action was taken that ended it. But it never did.

He was attacked so many times, assaulted, sometimes even put in the infirmary and, truth be told, he was used to having a partner at his back, was sick of the atmosphere here, the casual lawbreaking, the nonchalance at rape and assault. It was pervasive and he felt he would never be able to break it.

He was tired of fighting alone. If Bucky had been with him... his throat tightened. Bucky was dead. That was why he was here. He had no idea who'd done it, but he was the one suffering for it. Anger burned through him when he remembered that and he struggled to rein it in, to control it.

He tried to break the ring, a cop to the end, for months until he was cornered by Thrym and a number of other gang members.

“Rogers,” Thrym said, and he turned, head high, eyes flashing.

“Thrym,” he said, derisively, and Thor’s lip curled up as his eyes narrowed. He took a step forward but Thrym held him back with a hand.

“You’ve done enough damage to my business,” Thrym told Steve. Steve lifted his chin proudly.

“Your business is criminal,” he said. Thrym looked around, raised an eyebrow.

“This is a prison,” he said. “We’re all criminals here. Oh, I’m sorry,” he said as Steve bristled, “I forgot that you were framed.” His voice was smooth and mocking and Steve’s jaw set.

“I was,” he said, staunchly. Thrym brushed it aside.

“In any case,” he said, “You’ve damaged my business enough. I have a bargain.” Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I don’t bargain with-” he began.

“Stow it,” Thrym said. “Here it is. You lay off, stop digging. I stop you from being harassed.” Steve’s teeth clacked together as he gritted them, looked at the gang members, hating himself for wanting it, for wanting to be able to go about his daily business without being cautious that an attack would come at any moment. “You let my business run smoothly and I will make your life smooth.” Thrym leaned forward. “Or it could be very difficult, and you don’t want me to do that.”

Steve stared at the gang confronting him and met Thor’s eyes. His first instinct was to snarl that he was a cop, he wasn’t going to bow to this, couldn’t let it run under his nose. But he knew that he was pushing too far. Knew that if he went any farther he would be in real trouble.

He knew what gangs did when displeased and he knew that he wouldn’t survive the fallout.

He didn't want to fight alone.

He hesitated for a long moment, then jerked a nod.

“Fine,” he said, and knew he’d taken the first step of many into descending into criminal culture. He’d always scathingly condemned the cops who turned a blind eye to crime happening right under their noses.

He had turned into one of them.

He sucked in a deep breath as Thrym smiled broadly.

“Excellent,” he said, and Steve walked out, the gang parting for him. He struggled to hold his head high.

XX

Steve watched Tony as he, as Bruce put it, prostituted himself out, watched how weary he became and finally he thought he understood Thor that little bit better.

When an inmate came for Tony at dinner he stood up and pushed Tony down. The man raised an eyebrow at him.

"What do you want, Rogers?" he asked, eyes still on Tony as he stared at him. Steve's hand did not leave Tony's shoulder.

"You leave him alone," he said, firmly. The man laughed. "Or I'll take offence." Tony opened his mouth and Bruce elbowed him in the ribs.

"And do what?" Steve let himself smile, caught his eyes and held them.

"You don't fuck with another man's bitch," he said, and Tony spoke.

"Whoa, Steve," he said, and broke off when Bruce elbowed him sharply in the ribs again.

"Shut up, Tony," he snapped. Steve met the inmate's eyes.

"Problem?" The inmate narrowed his eyes, displeasure flooding them. "You think I can't take you?" Steve asked coolly.

In reply the man walked away and Steve sat down, head held high.

"Steve," Tony said instantly. "Steve, what the hell was that?" Steve turned to him.

"You won't whore yourself out anymore," he said. "I won't have it." Tony turned away. "You hear me, Tony? I'll protect you." Tony sucked in a breath and met his eyes.

"I thought you were different," he said. Steve's eyes widened slightly. "I thought you liked me for me." Steve opened his mouth but Tony didn't wait for him to explain. Bruce offered him a smile.

"He'll come round," he said. Steve stared after Tony.

"I hope so," he said, guilt and worry churning in his gut. "I don't-" Bruce patted his shoulder.

"Wait for him to cool down and tell him," he said.

XX

Tony came to him himself later. He said nothing about his outburst but sat with him and chatted cheerfully and Loki, across the room, caught Steve's eye, smiled.

"So, Steve," Tony said, seriously, and he turned to him. "I've been thinking, and if I were to make a suit that flew- I would love to fly, wouldn't you?- I'd make it red and gold. I'd be invincible."

Steve laughed, the knot in his stomach easing.

"Sure thing, Iron Man," he said dryly, and Tony laughed.


	3. The Devil You Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new inmate makes trouble for Thrym.

**Part Three: The Devil You Know**

The new meat was arriving again. There was the usual collection; the small, scared ones, the ones who tried hard not to show their fear, the transfers who were judging them back, the newcomers who weren’t frightened.

It was one of the transfers who caught Thor’s eye. He was huge, tattooed, bald and was searching both the current and new inmates with the eye of a gang boss. Thor did not like the look of him.

“Boss,” he said and pointed him out. Thrym met the man’s eyes and they locked. He was possibly bigger than Thrym and had two men his size following him faithfully. Thor narrowed his eyes, shifted his stance automatically, ready to fight.

“He’s going to be trouble,” Thrym finally concluded. He looked at the gang. “Stand your ground.”

“Yes, boss,” they chorused.

XX

The man’s name was Laufey, and he was indeed trouble.

From the start he and his lackeys, Helblindi and Bylestr, big and tattooed and almost identical, kept a quiet, sharp eye on Thrym and his rhythms, marked his territory. He stayed away for a time, talking to other inmates, trying to find out what Thrym's habits were, what his history was.

He found out about Steve and the fight between him and Thrym and his lip curled in derision. He spoke out publically about how weak Thrym was for letting it go on so long and Thrym's boys were practically vibrating with fury but his enforcers were strong and fast and together they could not be bested.

People started to listen to him, to doubt Thrym, and Laufey was Thrym's equal in strength. Thrym tried to keep order, to keep people loyal but criminals were fickle. They were ambitious, and they saw a chance to kick Thrym off his throne.

They took it.

Thanos was the first to join Laufey. He was always impetuous, dark and jealous and overly ambitious, but was no match for Thrym. He was a good judge of people, though, and saw Laufey's strength, his potential to challenge Thrym and win.

He backed him and once he did others followed. Laufey was told of Thrym's history and his crimes.

He started looking at Steve more closely, curious to find out more about who could keep Thrym and his boys on edge so long, and liked what he saw.

XX

Laufey took a vested interest in Steve, who had lain low since his bargain. He'd been plagued by guilt and tempted to investigate again but held off, knowing what would happen if he did.

He had never understood why Thor had given himself to Thrym until Laufey started dogging him, not really. For all he'd taken Tony under his wing, he didn't understand.

Wherever he turned he was there, leering at him, reaching for him, and Steve was strong but Laufey was stronger, and his enforcers were equally strong. Steve fought them with all the fervour he'd fought Thrym some time ago and knew his bargain and protection was only for an easy life, not support.

He didn't want support- wouldn't stoop that low.

But when Laufey stared at him, eyes dark and hooded, he shuddered and found himself craving backup – craving Bucky.

XX

The first time Laufey pinned him it was in the showers.

He struggled and fought but was easily held, though not subdued. Laufey pulled him close and he tried to pull away, disgust passing through him, but was held tight.

"Bitch," Laufey said and he heard one of the enforcers laugh. "You're uppity, and I'll teach you your place the way Thrym never could. I'm stronger than him, pretty boy." Steve kicked at him to no effect.

Then the bell rang that warned everyone to get back to their cells for lockup and he released him, scowling. Steve felt relief sink through him as he rubbed his wrists.

"Next time, pretty boy," he said and stormed out.

Steve just stared shaken at the door and almost missed lockup.

XX

The next time he was pinned it wasn't anywhere close to time for a bell to ring and he cursed as he thrashed until the wind was knocked out of him. He struggled to catch his breath as his pants were yanked down.

"I'll tame you," he said and Steve tried to hold his head high but when he felt Laufey's hardness pressing between his cheeks, dragging at the skin, he stiffened. He heard Laufey laugh above him, and then another voice spoke, easy and confident.

"No lube?" Thor asked, and Steve could picture his wide eyed innocent look. "How unpleasant. That'll drag on you and be painful. You don't want that." Laufey kept a firm grip on Steve but sat up, glared at Thor, who was standing appearing perfectly at ease, facing them coolly.

"Besides, he's no bitch," Thor added, dismissively. "He has no skill in that. It'll be rough and unsatisfying. You'll have to hold him down and that'll take you from the important thing- which is, of course, your pleasure. The ultimate goal." His grin was easy but his jaw had an odd set to it. Laufey narrowed his eyes at him, suspiciously.

"Do you really want to be yanked from it by a flying elbow? Breaking him will be too much work to be worth it." Laufey glared down at Steve and then Thor.

"And you are a bitch then?" he asked. "I'd be quite happy with you." His look was threatening and Thor laughed.

"Me? I'm spoken for," he said, and Steve felt his chest constrict when he thought he'd name Tony. It was wide knowledge his protection of him didn't come with fucking and Tony was still preyed upon for it. Tony had offered and asked but he could not, would not bow that far to prison culture and as his protection went on less people took a shot at Tony, though no one stopped entirely. But he didn't. "And I'm afraid he's quite jealous."

That was when passing footsteps made Laufey drop Steve and he caught himself stiffly, rubbing blood back into his wrists. He glared at Thor as he passed, took careful note of the tattoo on his bicep.

"You're his bitch," he growled.

"Guilty as charged," Thor agreed. "Now go before you get into trouble."

He did and Thor offered to help Steve up. Steve glared suspiciously at him.

"Why did you do that?" he demanded and Thor let out a breath, tension dropping from his shoulders.

"I meant what I said earlier," he said. "I want to spare you too much pain." There was distance between them, anger; Thor had never forgiven him for prying, he could not forgive Thor for backing Thrym; the silence was charged and Steve finally jerked a nod.

"Well, thanks," he said, pulled his pants up and left. He felt Thor's eyes on his retreating back and knew he was running but didn't care.

XX

Steve knew not to expect any help from Thrym against Laufey. He'd never been protected. And he didn't get any. He saw Laufey watching him at every corner, sending chills down his spine, and hated prison life all the more vehemently. No one took responsibility for others here, took interest in their welfare.

He understood the mentality, why it was each man for himself. He knew the stakes here all too well. He knew, too, that he'd backed off under the pressure and turned a blind eye to the drug trade he knew was going on right under his nose.

He knew the pervasive attitude of self-preservation this place bred.

That didn't mean he liked it.

It infuriated him, the lengths others went to to gain favour and protection- it infuriated him that Thor had to offer his body up to Thrym for any measure of freedom in this place. It infuriated him that Thrym felt he had the right to demand such a thing, and he was so angry at Thor for doing it, for refusing to stand on his own, unable to understand why he'd allow it to happen to him. He'd had a girlfriend, and Steve could not come to terms with it. He was so angry that Tony'd had to whore himself out to everyone for even a measure of protection because there was no standard of human decency here.

Helpless anger filled him and he did not know what to do with it.

XX

Thrym was brooding, and that was never good. Thor watched him, tense, wondering if this was a mood that he would choose to end with a fuck or a fight or if he'd just brood. He was on edge as he waited, reading a magazine but not really taking the words in.

"Thor," Thrym snapped and he startled, tensed.

"Boss?" he asked, cautiously. A snap of his fingers and Thor scrambled to his feet, jumpy and nervous, unsure what would be expected of him. He fidgeted as he stood in front of Thrym, eyes flickering up and down before resting on the ground.

"I need to stop Laufey," he snapped, and though he knew his anger wasn't directed at him Thor felt himself tense at the sheer weight of his fury. "This is my prison, and he will not strut about as if he belongs here." Thor was silent.

"I won't have it," Thrym shouted at Thor.

"Of course not," Thor said, eyes still canted down. Thrym gave him a long look, fury simmering below the surface of his eyes, vibrating in his every action. Thor couldn't help but shy away when he moved close. Thrym's thunderous glower had him cringing.

"On the floor," he snarled and Thor dropped without a thought. Thrym ripped his pants down and barely lubricated him. He was rough and it hurt but Thor bore it stoically.

When he was done he wasn't sated, not nearly, and Thor waited but instead Thrym stormed outside and paced in the corridor. Thor picked himself up off the floor and climbed into bed, waiting for him to return.

XX

Steve watched the gang war escalate and stayed out of the way, hating himself each time he did nothing but knowing there was nothing he could do. He kept his normal routine and refused to let himself be intimated but knew he was.

He was finding it harder to sleep, harder to look his reflection in the eye. He'd always prided himself on being incorruptible but he knew every man had a breaking point.

He'd just found his.

XX

The first time he was raped it was in the shower by Laufey and his boys. He was held down and Thor wasn't there to divert Laufey.

"I like you," Laufey breathed into his ear as he shoved him to the floor and he felt his arms pinned above his head. "I really like you." He felt disgust fill him and struggled beneath him as his heavy weight rested atop him. Looking up at Bylestr and Helblindi he saw they were near glowing with satisfaction and smugness and spat at them.

His arms were wrenched tighter and he gritted his teeth, refusing to show his pain.

"You're feisty," Laufey continued as he shoved his legs apart and reached between his cheeks. He bucked hard but was only held tighter for his efforts. "Strong. Not like that bitch Thor, hey?" The surge of anger that ripped through him surprised him.

"You don't say a word about Thor," he snarled and Laufey laughed.

"Friends, are you?" he mocked him as he shoved in and the pain was blinding. Steve felt tears spring to his eyes and blinked them back. He would not cry. Every movement dragged at him and he heard himself panting harshly in his own ears as he struggled to breathe, to think through it.

Footsteps passed by and he prayed but Laufey did not stop. His grunts were obscene.

"You're so tight," he said. "Am I the first to take you?" Steve's silence was answer enough and he threw his head back and laughed. "Excellent! We'll have fun with you, won't we boys?"

Helblindi's and Bylestr's grins were sickening.

XX

He saw Thor watching him at breakfast the next morning and didn't turn him away when he came over. He resolved not to talk to him until it occurred to him that Thor probably knew exactly how he felt right now. He turned to him.

"Thor," he said, and Thor's eyes were sad.

"I'm sorry, Steve," he said, those blue eyes remorseful and understanding. "Cream helps. And stay out of the shower alone. Keep Bruce and Tony with you- they don't usually attack people in groups." Steve nodded, mechanically shoved a spoonful of food into his mouth.

"Thanks," he murmured and Thor lightly touched his arm.

"Just eat," he said as Steve stiffened. He removed his hand and then his gaze fell on his own food. He glanced at Thrym and Steve followed his gaze.

"I know," he said, with a small smile at Steve. "How you feel right now. Trust me- keep moving. You'll get stiffer otherwise." His words were aimed at him both physically and mentally, Steve knew, and bowed to his experience, for the first time understanding a little more.

"Thor," he said, and Thor looked up at him. "When you first went to Thrym..." Thor's lips thinned slightly but he didn't look angry so Steve forged on.

"Did he threaten you?" he asked, and looked away. Thor hesitated and he saw him nod after a moment out of the corner of his eye.

"There were four," he said, finally. "And they took turns at me. I couldn't do that again." Steve heaved a sigh.

"I'm sorry, Thor," he murmured. "I won't go to Laufey," he said. Thor met his eyes briefly and looked down. He saw shame in his eyes before he looked away.

"Good," he said, and they finished their breakfast in silence, Thor not meeting his eyes again.

XX

Steve changed. He was angrier, angrier than he'd ever been, even when he'd been framed. He was furious and more determined than ever to resist. Whenever Laufey looked at him he held himself high and met his gaze and saw him laugh. Fear passed down his spine but he viciously shoved it away. He would not bow to a bully, not ever.

He spoke less to Thor and it seemed Thor could hardly look at him, though he didn't know why, couldn't understand.

He thought of his words, of the heaviness of them.

 _"There were four of them. They took turns on me. I couldn't do that again."_ He thought of the way he still feared Thrym, the way his posture changed when Thrym looked at him from across the room, the way he made himself smaller, the way his head dropped deferentially.

He thought of how he straightened when Laufey looked at him and suddenly he knew.

Thor was ashamed.

He was shamed because he wasn't able to fight.

Unable to figure out a way to talk to Thor about it he avoided the subject, and Thor seemed quite happy with that solution. They talked about nothing in particular, talked less and less and finally stopped talking at all.

Steve grieved. He hadn't forgotten the times Thor had manically defended Thrym, the time he'd threatened to rape him, the time he'd tried, the times he'd fought him, but he remembered what Bruce said about his conditioning- for that was what it was, brutal conditioning- he remembered being raped himself and how he might be if he allowed his fear to take over- he could not hate Thor.

Tony was terrified of Laufey and stuck close to Steve's side for protection. Bruce gave Steve a long, somehow sad look.

 _'Now do you understand?'_ it asked. Steve did.

XX

Steve refused to take sides in this war, but truth be told he'd have chosen Thrym. They both had the same blood on their hands but with Thrym he was left alone as long as he left them alone. Laufey did no such thing.

He tried to get him alone but Steve took Thor's advice and stayed with Tony and Bruce and they managed together to avoid him and any further attacks for a long time.

Thor still warded Laufey off, played interference when he could and Steve knew why. Steve knew it was so that he didn't break the way he had. Steve always thanked him and he always looked down, walked away without a word.

And so it went for weeks.

XX

He was alone again in the corridor when Bylestr pulled his arms behind him. He yelped in shock and shoved back against him but to no effect as he was pulled along the corridor and shoved against the wall.

Laufey and Helblindi were waiting for him in the small alcove he was taken to and he felt fear and fury twist his gut. He listened to the fury and twisted and shoved and fought to no effect.

"Got you," Laufey said, leaning close, his hot breath on his neck and he spat at him. He chuckled, pulled his head to the side.

"Bitch," he said.

Helblindi pulled his pants down and he felt his legs being spread against his will when the sound of a fight outside attracted their attention and Laufey's eyes narrowed unhappily.

"We have to get out," Bylestr said. "They'll catch us."

There was a very long pause before he was dropped roughly and landed on his feet.

"Lucky," Laufey said. "But next time- I'll have you again, pretty boy." Then they vanished and Steve pulled his pants back up.

As he left the alcove two of Thrym's boys winked at him and he blinked, startled.

XX

"Your friend needs to pick a side," Thrym said to Thor, who looked up. He thought of Steve, who was strong against Laufey, against Thrym, strong and alone and proud, and he felt something inside him ache and twinge. "Are you listening to me?" Thrym snapped and he shoved it down.

"Yeah, of course," he said. "I'll talk to him." Thrym narrowed his eyes at him and he cringed to think his thoughts were discovered. Then he jerked his head.

"Do so," he said and Thor left quickly.

XX

"Steve," he said. It was the first time he'd talked to him in three weeks and Steve turned, his eyes widening in surprise. He couldn't meet them, proud and strong, couldn't face the evidence of his weakness, and spoke to his navel.

"Thor?" he asked. Thor looked up then, forced himself to meet his eyes.

He had strength of his own and he would use it.

"You need to choose," he said, and his voice was heavy and weary. Steve understood instantly, closed his eyes, to Thor's relief, looked at the wall.

"I can't straddle the fence can I?" he asked and Thor shook his head.

"Thrym insists," he said. Steve looked him up and down and then looked away, pity and anger in his eyes. He looked as if he was measuring him and he didn't like it. He hunched slightly. "Or he'll withdraw his protection." Steve looked unsurprised by this, and anger was harsh and biting when he spoke again, his eyes flashing.

"And what favour will I need to pay him to keep it?" he asked. "Do I need to whore myself out to him?" Thor tensed, his whole body going rigid, head shooting up. He would not have him talking shit about him.

"Regardless of what you think of me, of what I do," he snapped, "You have to choose." He turned away and Steve's eyes widened then he reached for his back, guilt flashing into them.

"Thor," he said, placating, pleading. Thor ignored him.

"And choose fast," he said. "Thrym is not a patient man."

He turned to go and Steve called out to him.

"Thor, listen, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean. I mean, the whore comment." Thor felt the weight of prison life, of his own weakness, his blinding fear crash down on him and a hysterical giggle rise from his lips which he bit down. Despair filled him just a moment later, damping the hysteria.

"I know what I am," he said, and he knew that nothing he'd ever said was so resigned as those words, as he left.

XX

"I told him," he told Thrym, staring at the floor. His voice was dull as he sank onto his bed and Thrym raised an eyebrow at him.

"What's prompted this mood then?" he asked, and his voice hardened. "You aren't thinking about fighting again, are you?" A sob burst from Thor's throat, quickly silenced as he shook his head.

"I know my place," he said. Thrym looked pleased.

"Good," he said. "Now suck me." He sank to his knees on the floor, crawled between his legs and pulled his pants down just enough to take his cock in hand, and as he curled his tongue about him, hummed around him and took him as deep as he could go, actions he had felt such pride in in the past, he felt Thrym petting his hair.

He didn't care enough to regret the faint thrill that went up his spine at the action.

XX

He was dispirited but obedient, ever obedient. He knew his place. He obeyed Thrym, he was under Thrym and he was protected by Thrym, and he remembered the fear and dread from before and knew that he was so broken by Thrym that he would never fight again.

He was so broken he could never face his mother again, or his father.

And so, when Mother sent another letter he didn't even open it, just left it on the bed and Thrym gave him a long, concerned look. He looked up at him then, tipped his head back and let the concern wash over him. He couldn't pretend he didn't want to please Thrym and didn't want to pretend that he didn't want to please Thrym.

He wanted to please Thrym, and he had Thrym concerned about him. He sat up and forced a smile as he picked it up.

"Can't ignore mums, right?" he said as he opened it but Thrym's eyes did not leave him, and the concern did not leave them.

XX

Mother knew something was wrong and asked him what had happened.

"Nothing," he said, and looked down again, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm fine, Mother." She knew he was lying but didn't push it.

"Your father sends his love," she said, and he snorted.

"You mean he hates me," he said and her lips pursed.

"He is disappointed in you," she corrected him. "But you are punished enough by being here." She rested her forehead unhappily against the glass separating them, pressed the phone close to her ear. She let out a deep breath, fogging it up.

"Anyway," she said, straightening. "Baldur also sends his love." Again Thor snorted, a little more spirited than before despite the crashing shame that his mother's presence brought. Mother always had that effect on him.

"He hates me too," he said. "Wants to know who's fucking me and how much of a slut I am." His voice was matter of fact. "I know my brother. Tell him his name is Thrym and he's a damn sight better in bed than he is." She snorted lightly.

"You boys," she said. "How do you know how your brother is in bed? No, wait, don't answer that." She squeezed her eyes shut as if banishing a mental image.

"Nothing like that, Mother," Thor said. "He has had girlfriends you know." Mother regarded him amusedly.

"Of course," she said. "You would." Thor shrugged.

"Gotta get dirt somehow," he said, shamelessly. She shook her head as the guard came over indicating for him to kill the visit. He nodded at him.

"You tell Baldur that," he said. "And tell Father," he hesitated. All his life he'd tried to match up to Father's exacting standards and knew he'd fallen so far that he never would.

"Tell him I love him." She nodded and the guard came over.

"I love you, Mother," he said.

"I love you too," she said, and they hung up. He let the guard escort him out.

XX

He tried to pretend that he was okay. To pretend that he was feeling anything. He tried to pretend that he could take pleasure in what he used to take pleasure in. He didn't care about going outside anymore but did it because he was expected to, because he always had.

He felt Steve's eyes on him, felt Steve's guilt from across the prison, but it wasn't his fault- he wasn't the one who had given in. He was the one who was still fighting. Finally Steve spoke to him.

"Thor," he said, and Thor turned to him. His eyes were dead and he saw Steve flinch, reach out a hand, open his mouth and close it, pull it back. Take a deep breath to steady himself.

"I'd like to set up a meeting with Thrym," he said and Thor nodded.

"I'll tell him," he said, and walked off.

He felt Steve's eyes burning through his back.

XX

"Steve's ready to see you," Thor told Thrym. Thrym nodded, gestured him forward. He moved closer and Thrym took his hand, sat him beside him.

"Thor, look at me," he said, softly. Thor did and his eyes tracked down again when he saw the worry in Thrym's eyes. "No, eyes on me."

It was a struggle, but Thor managed.

"I know this isn't what you wanted," he said. "I know that. But you're here, you're mine, and I want you to be happy." He felt something try to wriggle in his chest before the deadness swallowed it. "Thor, look at me," and he realised he'd been drifting. He struggled to keep his focus on Thrym. "I'm worried about you." To his horror, Thor felt tears spring into his eyes and he tried desperately to hold them back. Thrym pulled him into his chest and he needed the comfort all of a sudden. His need nearly blinded him and the tears spilled. Thrym held him and made comforting noises.

"Thor, I'm here for you," he said gently and Thor gripped his shirt tight in his shaking hands and wept.

XX

Steve arrived at the meeting place a few days later, looking distressed, and Thor wanted to make it better for him. He looked at Thrym, Thor and a choice few gang members he'd brought in to witness the meeting and met his eyes with difficulty.

"Rogers," Thrym acknowledged. He was not a cruel man; he didn't mock him for coming, for any weakness, didn't gloat. Steve sucked in a deep breath.

"Thrym," Steve returned, and his voice was shaking very slightly. Thrym waited for him to continue and he did after a moment. "Look, I don't like Laufey." He was far from the confident cop who had arrived in that moment. He swallowed, something like hatred in his eyes, hatred Thor knew well. Thor averted his eyes, unable to meet Steve's.

"Our feelings are mutual," Thrym said with a small smile and Steve managed a tiny one in return.

"And... I don't much like you," he said. He glanced around but no one reacted. "But I like Laufey less. You- life is easier under you. I." He hesitated. "I want to stay on your good side." Thrym nodded and Steve continued after a very long moment.

"So," he said, trying to regain his momentum. "I'm trying to say, I'm with you." He glanced at Thor. "And here as well to ask... well, what you will require of me." He was shaking very slightly, swallowing, hatred filling his eyes, darkening them. Thrym rose.

"I have only one thing to ask of you, Rogers," he said, and Steve looked up. "I keep you safe- you pledge your support in this war." Steve nodded, looking relieved. "It will come down to a battle," Thrym said warningly, and Steve nodded.

"I know," he said.

"It will require you to do things that may get you in trouble." Steve's laugh was bitter.

"I'm already in jail," he said. Thrym accepted it with a nod and offered his hand. Steve shook it briefly, firmly, and then dropped it, stepped back.

"You may go," he said to the other gang members, who filed out leaving Thor, Steve and Thrym. He gestured Steve forward.

"Rogers, I have to ask something of you," he said. Steve stiffened slightly but just looked up.

"What?" he asked, and Thrym gestured to Thor. His voice became worried.

"Keep an eye on him, would you? Keep him company. He needs friends." Steve's face softened as he searched Thrym's and nodded.

"Yeah," he said, smiling again, brighter this time. "I can do that." Thrym then dismissed him and turned to Thor.

"Boss, I-" Thor said and he hushed him with a finger on his lips and a gentle kiss on the forehead. Thor startled, stared up at him, wide eyed. Thrym had never kissed him before.

"You need friends," he said. "And Rogers is a good man." He bowed his head, trying to hide his shining eyes, but Thrym, of course, knew. He lifted his head.

"Don't hide your tears from me, Thor," he said gently, and one slipped down his cheek. Thrym caught it with tenderness with a fingertip and he watched in awe as he stared at it until it rolled off.

"They are all precious," he said.

Thor buried his face in Thrym's chest and Thrym held him.

XX

Steve had sunk so far into prison culture he'd never be able to drag himself out and he knew it.

He took Tony aside one day. Tony frowned at him.

"Steve?" he asked and Steve held his shoulders.

"You want me to claim you?" he asked, and Tony's eyes widened. "Is that what you want? What will stop you from being harassed?"

"Yes, but..." Tony began. "Steve, why?"

Steve didn't answer, just bent down and sucked a hickey into his neck. Tony stayed frozen and Steve shoved him slightly.

"Steve," he said. "What are you doing?"

"Claiming you," he growled. Tony shut up fast. "You know better than me how to make this official."

In reply Tony took him to his cell, knelt between his legs.

"This isn't a mistake, Steve," he said, cockily. "I'm great at sucking cock, you'll not regret this." Steve heard the 'thank you' in his tone that he would not voice and in reply he curled his fingers in Tony's hair.

XX

Thrym grounded him, and he knew that, though he did not love him, he cared for him. He hated himself for needing love but gave his next best thing, he did everything he could. He wanted to please Thrym, and that became his fixation- the point at which everything was better. Thrym was pleased and he was happy. Thrym was upset so was he. He needed Thrym and Thrym let him cling tight to him, let him use him to drag himself upright again.

Thrym gave him affection and he clung to it. He did nice things; he stroked his hair, played with it. Thor had always been weak to having his hair played with. Baldur had mocked him for it and Jane had always tugged lightly on his hair when they made love, had loved to braid it and play with it and he drank the attention up. Mother sat him at her feet and carded her fingers through the thick blonde strands when he was upset and just murmured soothingly to him until he calmed down, glaring at Baldur when he sneered at them.

Thor couldn't sleep very well, but Thrym sometimes wanted him to share his bed at night and the beating of his heart, his warmth at his back always lulled him off eventually. He curled into his chest and at first it was out of desperation, the need for any kind of human contact, for any kind of affection, no matter how slight but it became comfortable and something he craved for the intimacy of it. He would miss it when they stopped and never wanted it to stop.

Thrym gave affection when he could, and when he couldn't it was because there was a war on, and Thor couldn't forget about Laufey and the war. He had to focus. They had to defend their territory.

The need to defend their territory, to please Thrym, the need for affection slowly overrode the crushing despair he felt deep in his bones.

But he never forgot the despair.

XX

"Thor," Thrym said and he looked up, tired but as rested as he ever was. "Thor, you're doing much better." He felt himself smiling at that, shallowly, faintly, but it was a smile. "I'm proud of you."

He breathed for what felt like the first time in his life and relaxed so totally it felt like he'd never been stressed.

XX

He carried himself with new confidence from then on. He started to talk to Steve again, ignoring the shame that tried to flare up again, squashing it firmly. He played basketball outside with the gang, who welcomed him back with open arms. He ate what was put in front of him- though he never asked for more, he wasn't insane.

Whenever he doubted himself he reminded himself Thrym was proud of him, and whenever he needed a reminder of that Thrym gave it to him.

Really, it was inevitable that Thor fell hard for him.

XX

The number of skirmishes between the inmates Laufey had lured to his side and Thyrm's people increased until it was impossible to go anywhere without setting for a fight. As the number of injuries increased so did the anger of both sides and both sides became more aggressive.

Prison officials panicked and turned to Steve, asking him for information, but he refused to tell them anything, mindful of his new agreement, and regretfully, shamefully watched them go. But he knew he could not tell on anyone, not that they didn't know already who was doing it.

Not if he was to keep Thrym's protection.

And he was glad to have it, especially as time wore on and Laufey kept staring at him. Now Thrym's interference, subtle before, so subtle he hadn't realised he was interfering, became overt and Laufey became angrier at him.

Each time Steve was protected his violence became worse, but a bargain was a bargain.

Steve never thought criminals had a sense of honour. Thor snorted when he told him that.

"No one else will stand with us," he said. "We have to stand together." Steve nodded thoughtfully, spun the soup in the bowl with his spoon, scooped some up and watched it as it dripped back into the bowl. "Eat it," Thor told him. "It's not terrible."

Steve laughed and did.

XX

Loki did not like Laufey and had never liked serving Thanos. He followed him, of course, as any bitch would, but did not like it. He followed him to Laufey's service and watched Thor across the room, trying to convey with his eyes that this was not his idea, and Thor met his eyes back and tried to tell him that he knew.

Because he did, and Loki knew that.

Loki endured what felt like an age of serving Laufey. Laufey demanded that Thanos give his bitch to him and, eager to please, he always did.

Loki hated it. Laufey was rough and even worse than Thanos. He limped after and tried not to look at Laufey, knowing he would see the hatred in his green eyes and demand him more often.

He eventually couldn't stand it anymore and stole off one day to Thrym. He was greeted coolly- it was known that he was only a bitch but he was suspected of spying. It was a natural assumption.

He offered intel on Laufey in exchange for protection.

"I don't like Laufey," he said when asked why. "And I never liked Thanos."

He was accepted for the intel, and Thor was overjoyed. He gripped him in a bear hug and lifted him off his feet.

"Air!" Loki gasped and Thor put him down, squeezing his hand for a moment and stepping back, looking embarrassed. Loki elbowed him in the gut.

"You big lug," he said, affectionately, and all was forgiven.

XX

The angrier Laufey got, the more he wanted revenge on Thrym, the more persistent he was with Steve, and Thrym kept his affection for Thor far from the public eye. If it was known how much he cared for him he would be in danger and he did not want that.

But stories spread and that he was affectionate, did care for Thor was known, and slowly Laufey switched the weight of his attention to Thor.

Thor hadn't been watched so intently since arriving and was unused to having to guard himself at all moments, check corners. He fell into the rhythm again quickly, though, and soon was tight and wound up at all times, but safe, protected. He had Thrym behind him, and his fellow gang members kept an eye out for him. He had Steve and Bruce to play lookout.

He could fight big men- he could not fight Laufey or his. They were men bigger than he could take and he knew it.

"Just run," Thrym said. "I know it's cowardly but you will get hurt otherwise, and I don't want that." He then pressed his lips to Thor's forehead softly and Thor tipped his head back in contentment as he rested against him. "You're wound so tight," he murmured, strong, confident hands settling on his shoulders, digging at the knots there. Thor made a small, pained sound as he worked them out, trying not to stiffen or wriggle and make it worse.

Thrym wrapped his legs around his waist to hold him close as he worked.

"If I could I'd keep you here where you're safe all day," he said. Thor opened his eyes, opened his mouth to protest. He chuckled. "But I know what you'd do. You're so predictable." He smiled as he lay another kiss on his forehead. "You're mine." A small, contented sound left Thor as he settled under his hands again.

When he was done he had Thor roll his shoulders. When he did so without stiffness or pain his eyes widened slightly.

"I'm magic," Thrym said dryly.

In reply Thor shifted to his knees, where he could comfortably sit for a long time, and moved close between his legs, looking coyly up at him through his eyelashes. Thrym raised an eyebrow.

"You're irrepressible," he said, fondly. "Go on then, if you insist."

He did, lovingly unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out, fondling it to hardness, cupping his balls in his hands and squeezing gently. He wrapped his lips around him and took him in inch by inch. A salty drop of precum hit the back of his throat.

When a gang member came in he stopped. He did not like company and Thrym didn't push him. He pulled off and the gang member averted his eyes as he mumbled something about Laufey making a push for more territory.

Thrym's eyes went bright with frustration and he rose.

"Dammit," he said, tucking himself back in and zipping his pants up. "Come on," he told Thor. "We have work to do."

Thor rose and followed him out.

XX

"Your master enjoying the bitch, bitch?" Thanos called cruelly and he felt Loki caught between a scowl and cringe beside him. Thor met his gaze.

"Jealous?" he called back and Thanos's eyes darkened.

"Hardly," he spat. "I have no need of a harlot." Loki snorted at that.

"Should have thought of that before you gave me to Laufey," he said. Thor chuckled.

"I'll bet you didn't get off on watching your boss fuck him, then," he retorted and Thanos scowled at the both of them.

"Bitch," he snapped at the pair, who did not deign to reply.

"He so did," Loki said. Thor pounded his shoulder.

"I'll bet. Pervert." They laughed and finished their lunch in comfortable silence. Thor felt Laufey's gaze on his back and refused to turn, disgust pooling in his belly.

Laufey had no right to stare at him so. He turned and met his eyes squarely. He would not hide from him. He would not let him think he was afraid.

He did not turn away until Laufey rose and left with a mocking smile at Thor. Loki touched his elbow.

"He won't get you," he said. Thor held himself proudly.

"You'd better believe he won't," he said, and Thrym caught his eye, smiled. He felt himself heating up, pleasure licking at the base of his spine.

"Mine," he said.

"Yours," Thor agreed.

"Oh, stow it," someone said, jovially.

"Make me," Thrym said and pulled Thor close. Loki just shook his head.

XX

Thor was headed down the corridor when he was cornered by Thanos. He stared up at him, coolly.

"Move," he said. Thanos cracked his knuckles and Thor raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to impress me?" he asked mockingly.

"Shut your mouth, bitch," Thanos snarled. "Laufey wants you."

"If you're running his errands, message boy, doesn't that make you his bitch?" he asked and Thanos snarled. Thor met his eyes squarely.

"Now move. I have places to be," he said. Thanos narrowed his eyes at him.

"You have to meet him?" he asked, jabbing a thick finger at Thrym's tattoo on his shoulder. Thor felt his face harden.

"Do not speak of him," he said, voice icy calm. "Traitor." And he darted in, kneed him in the groin before he could react, dragged him to the ground and pinned him there. "Ever again," he said in his ear, soft and dangerous, and stomped on his balls. Thanos let out an agonised, high-pitched sound.

"I could fuck you, you know," Thor said, conversationally. "I've earned the right." He made his point with a knee shoved between his legs. "But I'm not that crass. And I really do have places to be." He rose and fixed him a pointed look.

"Next time I will," he said and set off down the corridor.

Thanos never told on him, to the guards of Laufey.

"Too embarrassed to be taken down by a bitch," Loki snorted. "Prideful bastard." Thor thought of his own pride and had a twinge of regret that fast vanished, before he ever really felt it. He shrugged it off.

"Well, he won't try that again, at any rate," he said.

He didn't.

XX

Thrym gave him a long, measuring look after lockup and Thor fidgeted beneath it. He reached forward and traced the tattoo on his bicep.

"I remember giving you this," he said and Thor shifted, frowning. "You were so eager to serve me then." Thor's eyes widened.

"I still am!" he said. Thrym soothed him with hushing noises and he settled. Thrym kept tracing the fist.

"Aye," he said. "You are." He lay a hand over the fist. "You always are." Thor frowned, something uncertain twisting in his belly. He didn't know what Thrym was doing, was on about.

"Boss?" he asked, cautiously.

Thrym didn't reply, instead looking into his eyes for a long moment and then taking the bottle of lube from the drawer. Thor stripped and spread himself, knowing what he wanted, and felt the uncertainty kill the shivers of anticipation that scurried through him.

That uncertainty was banished a moment later when Thrym ran hands down his back, leaving goosebumps in their paths, digging out any knots he found before he reached his cheeks and spread them. He uncapped the bottle of lube and worked it on his fingers before slipping a finger in, teasingly. Thor held himself still with effort. It had been quite some time since Thrym had been in the mood for this, what with the war on, and he was quite eager. A second finger was soon inside him and scissoring him and he was shifting beneath him restlessly, trying to get him to penetrate him deeper.

Thrym planted a kiss on the back of his neck, still fucking him with two fingers.

"Ssh," he said as he found Thor's sweet spot. He bucked back, hard, bliss melting through him, a soft cry leaving his throat. Thrym chuckled. "Hush, sweet," he said, pulling out, Thor pushing back in objection, only to insert three and work him fully open. With each thrust of his fingers Thor felt himself melting and twisting beneath him, clenching about him and mewling softly.

"Thrym, please," he choked out. "Please-" his voice trailed off into a desperate series of garbled syllables as Thrym thrust with his fingers again, and then they were gone and he was being flipped on his back, emptiness yawning in him. He fidgeted in discomfort until he saw Thrym's cock positioned between his legs, felt the heat of him, felt it nudging at his hole.

He whimpered in need and pushed forward and Thrym thrust in with one smooth, long motion. Thor cried out and then stilled beneath him, glorifying in the feeling of being so full after so long. He didn't wait for the burn to settle before moving, clenching and Thrym began to move.

The burn dragged at him and he needed more, always more. He met Thrym's thrusts, clutching at him, and Thrym bit at his neck, sucked his mark there. Thor twisted it to the side as Thrym's thrusts never stilled, moaning as he hit his prostate on every stroke, cock hard and urgent against his belly.

He began to plead when the first drop of his own precum hit his belly.

"Thrym," he moaned, the sound keening off into a long trail as Thrym moved faster, harder, but it wasn't enough. "Please- harder, faster."

And then he was, and Thor's nails dug into Thrym's arms as he melted beneath him, the bliss on every thrust and his arousal was almost painful as it dripped onto his belly, cock proud and stark.

He wailed when Thrym took hold of it and pumped him slowly, torturously slowly, then harder, faster, and soon he was coming all over himself.

When he came down Thrym was still thrusting within him and he was twitching on every movement, over sensitised. He could feel Thrym was close but he kept delaying it, prolonging his own climax, kept stroking Thor until he felt himself hardening again and was writhing helplessly beneath him. Thrym wrung all the sounds he could from him, the cries, the soft swears, the moans and the groans, and then, finally, he was coming again and it felt like fucking heaven.

He felt Thrym still palming him and forced his gummy eyes open.

"Again?" he gasped and Thrym chuckled.

"Could you?" he asked and Thor groaned loudly, let his head fall back on the pillow.

Thrym kept fucking into him, thrusts short now and he never wanted to be empty again, wanted to hold him in forever.

Every twitch of his cock hurt but he was hard again and Thrym chuckled above him.

"Thought so," he said. He kept pumping him and Thor was wanton beneath him, desperate, needy, keening, whimpering as each twitch of his cock, each stroke was almost painful but he wanted— he wanted more. Thrym brought him over a third time and he cried out, threw his head back.

"No more," he gasped and Thrym chuckled.

"You did so well," he murmured and Thor just lay back exhausted. He wondered, dazedly, how long Thrym had been at it, and found he did not care. Then Thrym was coming in him and Thor clenched about him, milking him for every drop. When he pulled out he twitched beneath him as his over-sensitive flesh reacted to every slide but when he was out he felt empty.

He cuddled close to Thrym, who held him, sucked on the mark he'd left on his neck.

"Mine," he murmured and Thor was starting to drift off.

"Yours," he mumbled vaguely as he fell into sleep.

XX

That night was the last of such nights, for the war reached new heights and they were all too wired and tired upon lockup. Thrym often paced in the cell restlessly, planning, cursing Laufey and the traitors who had followed him, swearing. Thor lay in bed fuming at every push Laufey made, determined to stop him once and for all, to teach him a lesson.

The desire for revenge was nearly overwhelming, especially after he managed to get Loki alone. Loki was still in the infirmary.

"I will fucking kill him," he vowed. "He is so dead."

When he dreamt, it was dreams of fucking or beating Laufey into submission and they were immensely satisfying dreams.

What little Thrym did fuck him was to release his stress and extra energy and sometimes he energetically rode him for the same reason, needing to work it off. He felt dirty with Laufey's eyes always on him and needed to clear his system of that, and Thrym usually let him, understanding the need.

Prison officials were getting frantic. Lockdowns were been issued often and weapons searches conducted. But the inmates didn't need weapons to be dangerous. People on both sides were put into solitary, disciplined, restricted but the war didn't stop.

The war wouldn't stop until someone won.

XX

Knowing he would be a primary target for defecting, Loki was accompanied at all times- by Bruce, Thor, Steve or someone else entirely. Tony often stayed with him, as even a pair of bitches was less likely to be attacked than alone. The violence spread to everyone needing to watch themselves, on both sides, and the almost-comfortable routine had been utterly broken.

Thrym was ever more determined to win, and so was Laufey, and everyone knew that one day soon they would meet face to face and end this once and for all, that they were teetering on the edge of a duel.

They just didn't know what would finally tip them over and everyone held their breaths as they waited.

XX

Thor knew was in trouble as soon as Laufey’s two enforcers cornered him. He knew a lost fight when he saw one and these two; he had no chance against these two. One he might have gotten away from, but not two.

Thrym had told him to run, and he wasn't stupid. His pride could recover faster than his body if these two got him. He knew that. But they were blocking his way; there was no way around them.

That didn’t mean he was going to go down easy.

“The boss wants you,” one said, massive arms crossed over his chest, and Thor narrowed his eyes at him.

“I only have one boss,” he replied, holding his head high, flexing the tattoo of Thrym on his shoulder deliberately. “And he isn’t yours.” A terrifying smile spread over the other man’s face.

“We were hoping you’d say that,” he said. “Helblindi?” The other moved forward so fast Thor could barely see him and he dodged but the fist caught his jaw, sent him reeling. He blinked stars from his eyes and shook his head to clear it, settling in fighting stance.

“Bylestr,” Helblindi said. The other moved forward and before Thor could react a fist was in his gut and he was doubled over, gasping for breath, winded.

They grabbed him and pulled him through the corridors as he struggled to catch his breath, to trip them, but seemed impervious to his attacks. Finally Bylestr smacked him on the head and stars spun before his eyes again. He struggled to hold consciousness but the world faded despite his best efforts.

XX

“Thrym!” Loki gasped, pelting in. “Thrym, Laufey has Thor!” Thrym rose, startled and furious.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Loki panted for breath.

“I saw him, out cold between those brothers- Helestr or something- they’re taking him to Laufey.” Thrym’s eyes narrowed and he took a step forward. The gang looked furious, flexing their tattoos.

“Then we’ll get him back,” Thrym said, a long, slow smile that promised the worst torture spreading across his face. “No one touches my bitch and gets away with it.” A cheer rose from the gang.

“Thor’s one of us,” one of them said. “We’ll show them why nobody messes with Thrym’s boys.”

Loki looked around and relief blossomed through him as he leaned back against the wall.

XX

Thor woke in restraints. Panic flared through him and he tugged at them, staring around, but wasn’t able to budge them even an inch. He opened his eyes and found himself staring at the ground, which was cold beneath him. He turned his head this way and that to try to see anything and was greeted with the sight of Laufey’s enforcers at the door.

Helblindi smirked.

“Awake, princess?” he asked and he spat at him.

“You’re going to pay for this,” he snarled. “I’ll rip you limb from limb, just you watch me.” Bylestr laughed.

“Really,” he said, and it was then he became abruptly aware he was naked. He bared his teeth, knowing their intent, and he would not have it happen. Only Thrym ever had that right.

“Yes,” he said, flatly. “Just you watch me.”

“I am,” Bylestr purred and he spat again.

“Boss, he’s awake,” Helblindi called and he heard Laufey enter. He twisted in his bonds, felt them rubbing his hands and didn’t stop. He knew just what Laufey wanted and he would not surrender. Let them try.

“I can see why he likes you,” Laufey said, watching him. “You are feisty.”

“Take me out of these fucking chains and I’ll show you feisty,” Thor snapped. He heard Laufey laugh, move closer.

“I hear you’re a good fuck,” Laufey said, casually. Thor held his head proudly.

“You’ll never know,” he said. Laufey’s broad hand touched his back and he felt no fear. Laufey could try. He twisted his restraints again and cursed internally at how tight they were. He couldn’t flip about, couldn’t physically resist him.

Still, he refused to lie passive.

“Maybe not,” Laufey agreed. “But you will be fucked.”

“Thrym is going to kill you for this,” Thor said. “I’m going to kill you. Once I get out of these restraints you are dead.”

“I believe you will try,” Laufey said. “But you won’t get out of those restraints.” Laufey’s hand ran up his spine and he didn’t move. Let him take initiative. He’d find out just what a good fuck he was. He’d fuck him over alright.

“I will,” he said. “And you had best run.” Laufey made a pleased sound in the back of his throat.

“You are fine,” he said, curling his hair about his finger. Thor tossed his head and he tightened his grip but he didn’t care, didn’t stop. “Mmm.” His satisfaction made bile rise in Thor’s throat and fury fill him, burning all other thoughts away.

“Bet you couldn’t fuck your way out of a paper bag,” he snapped. “You are nothing, Laufey. This is Thrym’s prison and you are just an ignorant upstart _boy_.”

His hand was suddenly around his cock, a tightly punishing grip that banished the breath from Thor’s throat. His nails dug in but Thor refused to budge. He’d suffered worse than that.

“A boy, am I?” he asked.

“Yes,” Thor said, defiantly.

The grip tightened until it was agonising but he didn’t let them see how it was affecting him. One of the lackeys laughed.

"Too proud to scream?" he asked and Thor glared at him, his breath fast, knowing his pain was written on his face.

"Never," he snapped.

Laufey let go then and he felt his eyes trailing up and down his back, burning through him. Then he stepped closer and was hot between his legs. He bucked and fought to no avail.

"Let’s see how much of a slut you are," Laufey said.

Thor spat on the ground and Laufey sheathed himself.

He was bigger than Thrym. That was Thor's first thought as he bit back a pained sound. He'd gone in dry and he'd forgotten how much dry hurt. He tensed and bucked back to try and throw him off before he knew he could not win this fight.

He held still and proud, glaring at the enforcers as Laufey began to thrust within him, to slam into him. He was rough and graceless about it and he knew that by the end of this he would be hurting worse than he had since the first time with Thrym.

He could feel his bound body jolting with the force of the thrusts.

"You're a terrible fuck," he snarled. Laufey retaliated with a hard, punishing thrust that dragged past his tender flesh and made him let out a hissing breath.

“You’re not great yourself,” he retorted and Thor twisted this way and that beneath him.

“I’m a great fuck,” he said. “But I’ll kill you before I ever let you find out how great.” Laufey laughed.

“You’re blowing a lot of hot air,” he snarled. “And I'll fuck that attitude right out of you.”

“No you won’t,” he snapped. "You son of a bitch, you are going to die for this." A particularly hard thrust and the first pained sound escaped him before he could bite it back and all three laughed.

"Wouldn't Thanos love to see the upstart who took him down like this," Laufey said and Thor focused just on breathing. "Your master hasn't taken you to heel for a while, has he?" he asked. "He likes you – and I can see why." He traced down his spine and Thor growled. "Oh yes, I can see why alright."

He just snarled incoherently and then another pained sound slipped out of him. Laufey didn't talk anymore after that, and neither did he.

XX

"Rogers," Thrym said and Steve hurried up to him, worry painted in broad strokes across his face.

"Thrym," he said. "I heard about Thor – oh, god, I – what are you going to do?" His movements were frantic and it felt like he was breathing through a knot. Thrym's smile was terrifying.

"We're getting him back," he said. "Come on."

Steve fell in line without a word, face grim.

XX

Thor lay in his bonds, heaving for breath, exhausted and in pain. His every move resulted in a sharp ache that radiated into every extremity and his breath sucked in. After Laufey was done Helblindi and Bylestr had taken their turns but he'd expected that. He held tight to Thrym, to his anger, to the certainty that he was coming, dreamed of ripping all their heads off.

He wasn't threatening them anymore but they knew he wasn't beaten. He was far from beaten. He would never let them beat him.

"When's he coming, bitch?" Laufey asked idly as he stroked a hand down his spine.

"He's coming," Thor snarled. Laufey leaned close to him, close enough that he could feel his hot breath on his neck.

"I know," he said. "I had to provoke him somehow. You're very important to him. I'd say useful but... well, in this department," his hand rested on his cheeks, "You're lacking, so it must be your looks. You are quite pretty." He cocked his head. "Not as pretty as your friend Rogers, but he doesn't have hair to pull." He tugged on that hair, curled it around his fingers and pulled his head back so he was forced to look up. "You're like a mare."

"I'll fucking kill you," Thor snarled and Laufey chuckled.

"You keep saying that," he said, amused. Thor twisted to look him in the eye.

"Just you wait," he said.

"I have been. Quite some time, in fact." Laufey let his hair go and his head dropped despite his best efforts to hold it up. "So when does he arrive?"

"Right now," Thrym said and Thor felt a smile pass over his face.

"Hey, boss," he said, as lightly as he could. He saw Steve gasp in horror and Bruce's face set. He saw the other gang members’ fists clenching as they took the sight in. "Hey, guys. Get me out of these things and let’s kick ass, hey?" Laufey's hand fisted in his hair, dragged his head up painfully.

"Leave your men out of this and I'll leave mine out, Thrym," he said. "This is between you and me."

"You took my bitch- you involved my people," Thrym replied. "It's too late to leave them out of it." Other inmates on Laufey's side came out, Thanos primary among them. He smirked to see Thor. Thor met his eyes and smirked right back.

"Then let us make it about us," Laufey said, dropping Thor's hair. His head dropped and he exhaled a long, shaky breath.

"You let him out of those bonds first," Thrym said and Laufey complied. As each limb was released and blood rushed back into it Thor hissed and Bruce and Steve came forward to support him out. He gingerly put his weight on his legs, his ankles throbbing, pain splitting him in two, but refused to let them help him.

He'd walk out of this on his own two feet. He held his head high and Thrym took off his shirt, his eyes not leaving Laufey's, handed it to Thor, who wrapped it around himself gratefully, hissing slightly as it rested on deep purple bruises. Thrym's face darkened.

"You'll pay for that," he said, deadly calm. The gang smiled, feral, eager smiles, and Laufey's men, the ones who had defected, cringed.

"So he kept saying," Laufey agreed mildly. "Let us not do this with witnesses, Thrym- let us do this alone." Thrym met his eyes, considering.

"Yes," he agreed. "Rogers, get him back to the cell. There's cream in the draw that should help. He knows where it is, he can show you." Steve nodded, put a hand on Thor's arm which he drew back from.

"I can walk," he said and Steve headed off. Thor kept pace with him as Thrym and Laufey kept eying each other off.

"Tomorrow," Thrym said decisively. "After lunch. Shower room." Laufey met his eyes.

"Agreed," he said, and both gangs dispersed.

XX

Thor lay on his bed with a hiss and let himself sag into the mattress. Steve dug through the drawers to find the cream and took Thrym's shirt off him, set is aside neatly.

"This is going to hurt," he warned him and Thor nodded.

"I know," he said and took a deep breath. "Do it." Steve dabbed it gently on his back and he was stiff but held himself still.

"I'm sorry this happened," Steve said. Thor did not reply. "Look, I understand. I do." Thor blinked, confused. "Why you do what you do." He gestured about the cell. "Why you, um."

"Let him fuck me?" Thor asked, his voice pained yet dry. Steve chuckled wanly.

"Yeah," he said. "I understand now. I know the fear I felt. I know how hard it was." Thor's lips tightened.

"Steve, don't," he said. But Steve forged on.

"I shouldn't have questioned you all this time. I shouldn't have called you a- a whore. I'm sorry, Thor, I really am." Thor let out a breath.

"I know," he said. "This is how life goes in here. Maybe it's not what I wanted, not what you wanted- but it's not completely terrible. It could be worse."

"Aye," Steve said. "It could be worse."

Steve worked in silence for some time before he covered his back and thighs and hips and hesitated. "Um, Thor. I've done all but-" he rested a light finger on his cheek. Thor hesitated.

"I don't know," he said, finally.

"I'll do that," Thrym said, walking in, and both breathed a sigh of relief. Steve handed the pot of cream over to him.

"I've done everything else," he said and Thrym nodded and dismissed him. He sat beside Thor, rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, kissed his forehead. Thor tipped his forehead up for it with a sigh of relief, tension bleeding from his frame. "Tomorrow this will all be over." Thor smiled as he rested his forehead against the bed.

"You get him, boss," he said and Thrym chuckled.

"I will," he said. "Now hold still." Thor waited a moment, heard Thrym put the pot down beside the bed and felt him spread his cheeks gently, hissing at what he saw, angrily. "Bastard," he spat as he slipped a finger inside, well covered in cream. Thor hissed, tensed. "Hush," Thrym said, stroking his hair with his other hand. "Hush." As he worked the cream in he spoke to him to keep him calm and Thor let the words roll over him and lull him into safety, into security.

He was back where he belonged and Laufey would get his comeuppance tomorrow. The pain still assaulted him whenever he moved but he knew that he could deal with that.

He might not get up tomorrow, he thought as he let himself drift off once Thrym was done and had washed his hands. Thrym kissed his forehead.

"Rest," he said. "Sleep. Heal." And he did.

XX

Thor was limping badly the next day but showed up at breakfast as usual, didn't break his routine. He hovered by Thrym anxiously and kept a sharp eye out for Laufey. Thrym took his hands and looked into his eyes. A bruise had swollen one shut but the other was fine.

"I'll be fine," he assured him. He probed his swollen eye gently and Thor hissed.

"You should go to the infirmary," Thrym said.

"No," Thor said, proudly. Thrym chuckled. "I'll be fine." He shook his head.

"I knew you'd say that," he said. "Alright, then. If you're sure." Thor held his head high.

"I am," he said. Thrym dropped his hands.

"Go on," he said. "Rogers is waiting for you." Steve was watching him concernedly from the door, Bruce, Tony and Loki by his side. Thor had a long look at Thrym then headed over to them.

"If you want to stay with him," Steve began and Thor shook his head, winced slightly.

"You should be lying down," Bruce said. Tony met his eyes with sympathy. It had taken a long time for Tony to stop being afraid of him, not that he'd show it. He was a chatterbox. But everyone knew he was afraid of him.

"He's fine," he said, tossing a hand lightly in the air. "C'mon, guys. Workshop time." He led the way impatiently and they followed him chuckling.

XX

Laufey finished eating his lunch first. Thrym watched him leave and put his half-finished meal down, rising.

Before he left the table Thor rose and put a hand on his. He turned to look at him.

"Everything'll be fine," he said, reassuringly. Thor leaned up and kissed his jaw, softly.

"I know," he said, and sat down. Thrym touched his jaw and smiled, and the anxious look on Thor's face melted away. He touched his lips.

"One of those here when I get back," he promised and left. Thor watched him with a smile.

He and Laufey arrived at the shower room at the same time, more or less, and locked eyes.

"Conditions?" Laufey asked.

"Winner takes all," Thrym said. Laufey nodded his consent.

"Very well," he said. They kept their eyes on each other as they started to circle.

Laufey threw the first punch.

XX

Both gangs ran interference as their bosses duelled it out, glaring at each other but not making any moves. Their fight was already being fought. A few members of both kept watch outside the shower room. Thor was one of them, and no one could talk him out of it. No one tried. Thanos was there for Laufey. He tried to speak to Thor once or twice, to remind him of the condition that Laufey had left him in, but everyone told him to shut up.

"Don't make this worse," one of the enforcers said, dragging him away from Thor, and he scowled. Thor smirked at him.

They heard the sounds of the fight and got tenser the longer it dragged on, antsier, fidgeted more. Thor twisted his fingers and ran them through his hair, blinking his good eye, biting his lip. Even Helblindi and Bylestr started to look unhappy.

And finally the door opened and Thrym strode out. He was bruised and bloody, held his arm close to his body and had a limp, but there was the distinct look of victory in his eyes and he was smiling.

"Get," he told Laufey's men. "I do not want to see you again."

They got. He strode over to Thor, who hurried forward to meet him.

"I can clean you up," he blurted, looking concerned. "They're just bruises, mostly, right? No broken bones?" He looked him up and down, fussily. Thrym curved his good arm around his back.

"Hush," he said, and kissed him.

For a long moment, Thor forgot to breathe. Then he was kissing him back, frantically. Thrym pulled away.

"Hey," he said, looking flushed. "Slow down. We'll have time for that later." Thor flushed, glanced around.

"Oh," he said. "Right."

Laufey exited the shower room then, looking even worse than Thrym. He met Thrym's eyes.

"An earned victory," he said, and limped off. They watched him until he was out of sight then headed off.

"Don't want to make the guards suspicious," Thrym said and they followed his lead.

XX

It took a couple of weeks for Thor and Thrym to recover. They both went to the infirmary in that time and Thor was sent away, unable to do more for him. Thrym had fractured his wrist and it was put in a splint. He was told firmly not to use it too much but, as he said to Thor, winking, "I don't need two hands for this." Thor went scarlet and the doctor rolled his eyes.

"Get," he said, brusquely, and they did.

That night Thor couldn't contain his eagerness. He was twitchy and flushed and Thrym was almost as bad. He didn't wait long to put his good hand on Thor's hip and pull him close. Thor eagerly tipped his head back as Thrym kissed him, and he kissed him back, hungrily. His good hand played at the elastic of his pants.

"Off," he ordered, voice rough, and soon Thor was naked and on his knees before the clothed Thrym, lovingly fondling his cock, stroking it and cupping his balls before taking him into his mouth.

"Oh," Thrym said. They hadn't been deprived of this but still, he loved it every time. Thor sucked at his head, stroking and sucking him to hardness, drinking up the drop of precum that hit his tongue with a moan, going faster. Thyrm felt his breath quicken as he fisted his good hand in the blonde hair, urging him faster, his hips snapping forward and Thor's throat opened easily for him. They both moaned when he was sheathed entirely in his mouth and the sound made Thrym throw his head back with a gasp.

Before he came he pulled Thor off and spread him on his back on the bed. Thor helped take his shirt off and ran his hands up his chest, playing at his nipples until he stopped him, told him to keep his hands still. Then he spread his legs further and told Thor to hold the lube.

He slipped one finger in, spread it around, careful of any remnant soreness but there was none. Thor took it eagerly, sweetly, pulled it in, sought more, but it had been a while and Thrym, quite apart from wanted to see him come undone, to make him beg, had to stretch him again.

He did it slowly, one finger at a time, torturously, until Thor was writhing beneath him. He swiped at his sweet spot and made him buck forward and cry out. He angled himself on his heels, rocked his hips up to direct the thrusts of his fingers, fucked himself as much as Thrym was fucking him. Thrym leaned down to kiss him, swallow his desperate noises.

"Mmm," he said, with a small moan, unable to hold it back. Thor was wrecked, red-faced and pleading.

"Thrym," he whimpered. "Thyrm, p— _oh!_ " he bucked hard, writhed as Thrym slipped a fourth finger in, stretched him wide. "Thrym!"

When Thrym pulled out he mewled and rocked forward urgently. He sat up to lather his cock with lube and gently pushed him on his back before positioning himself atop him and sitting astride him.

Watching Thor as his face twisted in exquisite pleasure was enough for Thrym; feeling his tight, wet heat surrounding him was better; as Thor slipped down, sheathed himself, they groaned and moaned together and soon Thrym was thrusting up and Thor slamming down to meet him.

Thyrm's head hung back and he gave a long groan as his hips worked uncontrollably. It had been so long. He grasped Thor's cock and Thor gasped out loud, slammed himself down, clenched about him and Thrym moaned.

"Thor," he panted. "Thor."

Thor came first, and Thrym quickly followed. Thor collapsed forward onto him then rolled off at his hiss when he landed on his arm, an apologetic grimace on his blissed-out face.

Thrym stopped the apology before it started with a kiss.

"I could get used to this," Thor said with a weak smile as he snuggled against Thrym, eyes drooping shut.

"So could I," Thrym murmured as he watched Thor's breathing even out, tucked him close, toyed with his long hair until he too slept.

XX

Laufey's gang kept away from Thrym's. The resentment between them was clear but all knew Thrym had won, fair and square. They ate themselves and stayed together. Some of Thrym's boys taunted them, unable to resist themselves, but tensions were still too raw and they were firmly told off for it.

A tentative peace returned to the prison as the routine was settled back into, and the guards breathed a sigh of relief.

XX

"Mother," Thor said happily when she visited next, before she could speak, and she looked shocked but didn't question the happiness on her son's face. She smiled. "How's Father? How'd Baldur take the message- you did deliver it, right?" he asked and she laughed.

"Of course I did," she said. "What do you take me for, you?" He laughed.

"Ouch," he said, jovially. "That hurt." She put her hand on the glass separating them and he pressed his to hers.

"I promise not to forget the milk next time," he said and he was grinning. She shook her head and found herself smiling with him.

"Oh, you," she murmured, fondly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story consumed me, its the longest thing I've ever written. I still blame Book_Wyrm for it.
> 
> I can't quite hate her anymore. I'm actually quite proud of this, of myself. I've never finished anything this long before.

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback is much appreciated :)


End file.
